Pride and Pleasure

Chapter 13

Eliza watched as Jasper leaned forward and licked lightly across the quivering flesh exposed by the spread of his fingers. The sensation was exquisite torment. Her thighs shook with the strain of yearning for orgasm. The sight of him on his knees, servicing her with such tenderness, was too stimulating to bear. He was so beautiful. So big and strong. So confident and self-possessed. To see him subjugating himself to her desire filled her with a sense of feminine power she’d never known.

And Jasper had introduced her to that power. Shown her it existed. Reveled in her wielding of it. She cherished him for that gift and his confidence in giving it to her.

Cupping the back of his head, she held her breath in anticipation.

“Open to me,” he said softly, tapping the top of his shoulder.

It took the space of a heartbeat to comprehend what he wanted. He held out his hand to help her balance and she carefully, hesitantly lifted one leg. As the back of her knee settled over his shoulder, the thrill of dominance increased. Heat raced across her skin. The lush weight of her breasts strained her bodice. The illicitness of what they were doing only added to her excitement. Her entire body felt ripe with erotic promise, fluid and languid, restless and alluring.

Jasper tilted his head back to look up at her. His expression-lust laced with fondness and admiration-tightened her chest. “You’ve discovered your ability to enslave a man. And you like it.”

She ran her fingers through his hair, grateful she had the right to do so. “With you, I seem to like everything.”

He caressed her thigh with a firm, yet gentle grip. With a turn of his head, he pressed a kiss to the skin above the tie of her stocking. His tongue flickered, so swift and fleeting she wondered if she imagined it.

“Don’t tease me,” she pleaded. “I am already overwrought.”

“Patience is a virtue.”

“Do I look virtuous to you?” she cried, so frustrated by desire she had to look away.

It was then that the mirror behind him snared her attention. Her breath caught sharply at the reflected view-her leg slung dominantly over Jasper’s broad shoulder, her toes pointed from the delicious expectation, her hands cupping his head and urging him toward the eager flesh between her thighs.

“Are you watching?” he asked with a dark note of devilish provocation.

“Yes…” Eliza stared, unblinking, as his head canted to the side and he leaned into her. A second later, his mouth was on her, his firm lips surrounding her clitoris in a heated embrace. The flat of his tongue rubbed across the distended knot of nerves, and she cried out as tiny spasms rippled through her.

Jasper pulled back, licking his lips. “One day soon, I will spread you across my bed and feast on you for hours, just to hear the sounds you make when I pleasure you.”

His words created a vision in her mind that inspired a heated rush of moisture. He hummed with approval and leaned forward, his hands cupping her buttocks and holding her still. The restraint he’d shown so far disappeared in a voracious assault of lips and tongue that destroyed any remaining rational thought.

Driven to wildness by his ardor, Eliza held his head and rocked into his working mouth. In the mirror, her reflection was both aggressive and wanton, her calf flexing against his back, urging him on. She was red-faced and gasping, her eyes glassy and her hair in disarray. She looked ravished and debased and more sensual than she ever thought she could be.

She looked like a woman who might enslave a man like Jasper Bond.

He hefted her higher with effortless strength, forcing her to balance on the tips of her toes. His tongue pushed into her and she moaned, pleasure sizzling across oversensitive nerve endings. Stabbing fierce and fast, Jasper breached the clenching tissues and drank the flow of silky liquid that welcomed a deeper, thicker penetration.

All the while the mirror starkly displayed her frantic writhing. She ground her throbbing flesh against Jasper’s mouth, riding his thrusts in a mindless quest for orgasm. His tongue withdrew, and he caught her clitoris in a hot, wet kiss. With suction and the pointed tip of his tongue, he set off a climax so intense her vision blackened. Sobbing in the grip of violent shudders, Eliza hunched over him, attempting to pull away from his fervent suckling but unable to escape him. As the gripping ecstasy eased, the circle of his lips tightened, hurtling her headlong into another furious release.

Her nails dug into his shoulders. Tears burned her eyes and sweat bloomed from her skin in a humid mist. As she listed and began to fall, Jasper shrugged out from under her leg and caught her to him, tumbling backward so she sprawled across him.

She clung to him weakly, breathing his name.

“Shh,” he soothed, his hands stroking her trembling back. “I have you.”

He did. Completely.

Jasper stared up at the murals of circling olive branches surrounding each of the three massive chandeliers in the Melville ballroom. He knew time was rushing by while he lay on hard marble with Eliza draped bonelessly atop him. However, he didn’t care about the time or the discomfort of his position. There was nowhere else he would rather be. Aside from a bed, perhaps…

“Jasper?” Eliza’s normally clipped voice was passion-hoarse. He enjoyed the sound so much, he was prompted to press a quick hard kiss to her forehead.

“Um?” His fingers played with the disheveled strands of her tumbling hair.

Her head lifted and she looked at him. “How can you imbue so much smugness into one little sound?”

“Should I not be smug? You just melted in my mouth.”

Gaze narrowed, she rose to a kneeling position beside him and set her hands on her knees. Her expressive face took on a look of examination and calculation. When her focus settled on his groin, his subsiding cockstand swelled to renewed life. He almost held his breath, wondering how far she would go.

“I cannot allow you to leave with that,” she pronounced.

He grinned, adoring her. “Oh? But it is attached, I’m afraid. Fortunately, we are to be married, and you’ll soon have more frequent access to it.”

She gave his shoulder a push. “Not the penis itself. The erection, you vexing man.”

“Ah…I always have one when I part ways with you.”

Her blue eyes widened. “You do not!”

“I do. Not to this extent, but to some degree.”

Eliza appeared to consider this information carefully. “Have you always been so randy?”

“Not prior to meeting you. My natural appetite for sex was previously sated by twice-weekly visits to Remington’s.” He rubbed a strand of her hair between his thumb and forefinger, remembering the flaming tresses spilling across his pillows.

“Courtesans?” One of her hands lifted to rest on his abdomen. “Have you never had a woman who was special to you? One to whom you were attached enough to see more than once?”

“There are some who are…easier to pass the time with. They eschew conversation and work diligently. If they’re available, I will choose one of them over the others. But attachment? No.”

“Sex without affection? That sounds very lonely to me.”

“I don’t know what loneliness is.” It was not in his nature to discuss feelings and such. Jasper shifted uncomfortably, but answered directly. The more he revealed, the less hesitant Eliza became. That result was worth any discomfort. “There are goals to be met and work to be done. There is no time in my day to wish for things I don’t have. Except for you.”

“I will never understand why you like me so well.” The tiny dimple he’d first noted on the day they’d met winked at him. “But I won’t complain about my good fortune.”

Enamored with that dimple, he grabbed her hand and tugged her toward him. “Kiss me.”

“You like kissing. Not that I’m complaining. You are very accomplished.”

“I never liked the act prior to meeting you. Now, I cannot get enough. Sometimes the urge to kiss you is so fierce I have a damnable time resisting it.”

Her eyes widened. “Truly? I cannot fathom your disregard. I love your lips. And your kisses.”

“I never considered my mouth a particularly erotic part of my anatomy. There are other places on my body I preferred directing attention to.”

“Can I kiss you somewhere else?” A blush swept upward, over her chest to her cheeks. “Here, perhaps.”

Her hand moved lower and stroked him through his breeches.

“Bloody hell,” he hissed, unprepared for his impossibly swift reaction to her boldness.

“Too much?” she whispered, withdrawing.

“No.” He caught her retreating hand and put it back, mentally kicking himself for startling her away from an act he wanted as much as his next breath. The level of trust she was displaying-from speaking freely to indulging his lustful whims-humbled him. He’d done nothing in his life to deserve her.

“Have your wicked way with me,” he urged. “I beg you.”

Eliza raked him with a heated glance, from head to toe. He felt that gaze like a tangible caress. “Teach me how to please you. Show me the way to be the only woman you will ever need or want.”

Jasper yanked the placket of his breeches open and pushed his smalls out of the way. His cock sprang free of its confinement, straining toward his navel in a display of brute male arrogance.

“My God,” she breathed. “Every part of you is magnificent.”

The awed note in her voice sent relief rushing through him, swiftly followed by rampant desire. He watched as she reached for him, her slim white hands enclosing his scorching length in cool satin skin. His neck arched, his teeth gritting together in a bid for control. A few pumps of his hand and he could finish this. He was primed to blow after Eliza’s earlier display of total abandon. Her scent clung to his lips, filling his nostrils with every drawn breath, spurring his lust to previously unattained heights.

Her fingertips slid delicately up and down his cock, exploring. Jasper exhaled in a rush. His bollocks were drawn up tight, his seed churning and pushing its way up his shaft to leak out the tip.

Eliza touched the first drop, then lifted her finger toward her mouth.

“You might not like it,” he warned. “Some women do not.”

Her brow arched defiantly. Her mouth formed an O, and she pushed the glistening fingertip inside. She hummed softly, and that was his undoing.

“Put your mouth on me,” he said gruffly. “Wrap your lips around the head.”

She bent over him without hesitation. Her hair-still partially pinned-drifted over her shoulders, with some freed pieces falling to pool on his stomach. He reached up with one hand and pushed her hair out of the way of his view.

He watched her lips part, her head lower, his cock disappear inside her…Her mouth fastened on the plush head, and he groaned raggedly. The drenching heat and gentle suction were torturous.

“That’s good,” he gasped. “Take more.”

Her lips slid farther down, pushing his cockhead deeper into the narrowing channel of her mouth.

“Suck. Ah…yes, like that.” Sweat dotted his brow and upper lip. “God…your tongue…”

A moan vibrated along the length of his shaft.

Any worry he’d had that she would find the act distasteful vanished with that sound. Her hand pushed into his breeches and cupped his testicles. Her avid tongue rubbed the underside of his cock. Her head bobbed up and down his length, her mouth sucking so forcefully it was audible. The wet smacking echoed through the massive room, then rippled through him in a wracking shudder.

As frenzied as she’d been in her own extremis, she was similarly ravenous for his. Eliza worked his cock as if starved for the taste of him. The sight of her fervor, the feel of her hands and mouth, the sounds she made…it was all so erotic he lost himself to her.

“You make me so hard,” he growled. “Desist. Let me finish this.”

In response, she took him as deep as she could, her tongue pinning him to the curved roof of her mouth. She sucked him so vigorously his thighs shook with the pleasure.

“Christ.” His hips lunged upward. The first furious spurt of semen felt as if it was wrenched from his spine.

Eliza swallowed deeply and worked her hand on him, pumping his seed up the length of his shaft and into her eager mouth. Groaning and sweating, Jasper clenched his jaw shut and fucked his cock through her swollen lips, spewing his lust in an orgasm so intense it was painful. The rush of climax was endless, his cum spilling over her stroking tongue in thick, creamy washes. She took every wrenching pulse with unmitigated greed, urging him on with muffled moans.

Jasper collapsed to the floor with arms outstretched, muscles twitching from his calves to his shoulders, his lungs fighting for every serrated breath. His cock began to soften, as exhausted as he was, but she didn’t cease her ministrations. The tip of her tongue dipped into the tiny hole at the crown, drinking the last bit of semen he had left. He closed his eyes, drunk on the repletion sinking into the very marrow of his bones.

“Come here,” he murmured, needing to hold her.

As she curled against his side on the marble and entwined her legs with his, Jasper didn’t recognize the feeling gripping his chest in a vise.

It was hours later when he realized the sensation might have been joy.

“Good morning, Miss Martin.”

Eliza welcomed the distraction provided by the arrival of her man of affairs shortly after eleven o’clock two days later. Jasper had sent a note, excusing himself from their scheduled morning meeting, and while it expressed regret, the missive gave no explanation for why he’d canceled. The last time they spoke at length was during yesterday’s dance lesson in the ballroom-a space she would never think of in the same way again.

“Good morning, Mr. Reynolds,” she replied briskly, closing her ledger and smiling.

He stared at her, blinking, as if taken aback, which brought to her attention how readily she smiled of late.

Clearing his throat, he took a seat in front of her desk. She was pleased to see he’d procured a new satchel. Unlike his previous one, this one was made of butter-soft burgundy leather ornamented with gold hardware. He was a wonderful employee, one who worked hard and performed well, and she paid him accordingly. It was good to see him indulging himself.

“I understand congratulations are in order,” he said.

“Yes. Thank you.” Eliza linked her fingers on the desktop. “How is Mrs. Reynolds?”

“Very well.”

He told a story about his wife’s social pursuits that Eliza made every effort to appear interested in. She was grateful when he moved on and said, “I’ve also received word from my brother.”

“Oh?” A quiver moved through her tummy. Jasper’s agreement to be more forthcoming about his situation put her in an awkward position. She’d grown more and more apprehensive about sending Tobias Reynolds to Ireland. Although she had engaged Tobias before beginning an intimate relationship with Jasper, she was nevertheless circumventing the man she intended to marry by researching his past without his knowledge or consent.

Reynolds settled more comfortably into the chair. “He arrived safely and has begun the initial inquiries.”

She reminded herself to trust her instincts. “I would like to recall him. I have the information I need.”

“If you’re certain…”

“I am. He’ll still be paid the agreed-upon fee for his time, of course.”

“I never doubted it.” His fingers curled and uncurled around the wooden arms of his chair. “May I speak freely, Miss Martin?”

“Always,” she assured. “I value honesty above all else. I’d expect you would know that by now.”

“I do. However…” He inhaled deeply, then exhaled in a rush of words. “Have I been remiss in my duties or disappointing in some way? Have I given you cause to distrust me?”

“No.” Her spine straightened with alarm. “Why would you have such concerns?”

“You’ve always asked me to investigate your suitors. Therefore, I was startled to learn of your engagement to a gentleman whose circumstances I was not asked to explore. I know he is a friend of Lord Melville, but he’s also a possible investor and even in that capacity, you did not ask me to verify his solvency.”

Eliza was impressed. “Your thoroughness is laudable, sir.”

“I’m relieved to hear you say so.” He leaned forward. “I had only yesterday and this morning to inquire, but I must confess, what little I’ve gleaned has made me uneasy.”

“Uneasy?” Certainly Terrance Reynolds wasn’t the only enterprising and curious individual in town. What could be learned about Jasper through cursory inquiry?

“His residence is in a less-than-fashionable area of town. He has all manner of disreputable-looking individuals coming and going as they please. I’m not yet certain, but I believe he engages in trade. I suspect he makes a comfortable living, but it’s doubtful he has your means.”

“Few do. Regardless, Mr. Bond counts the Earl of West-field as a close acquaintance.”

“There is that,” Reynolds conceded. “Frankly, your betrothed is a bit of an enigma.”

Much obliged by his loyalty, Eliza felt it best to offer a truthful explanation for Jasper, so Reynolds would no longer be troubled. “Mr. Bond is a thief-taker.”

“A thief-taker!” There was a pause, during which he blinked rapidly. Finally, he said, “Not one of the better-known ones.”

“No, of course not. It would have been impossible for Mr. Bond to assume the guise of a viable suitor if he was a familiar personage. I found him through a referral.”

“Found…? You sought a thief-taker? I don’t understand.”

“Do you recall when Mrs. Peachtree experienced monetary troubles earlier this year?” she asked, referring to a tenant who’d suspected one of her employees of pilfering from the till. “You reported that she hired a Runner. When my situation arose, I approached her for his name and engaged the same man. However, Mr. Bell was unable to assist me. He referred me to Thomas Lynd, who suggested Mr. Bond would be more suitable.”

“Dear God.” Reynolds flushed. “You’ve done so much without my assistance…I cannot help feeling superfluous.”

“Quite the opposite. You’re an excellent man of affairs, sir, and valuable to me. Therefore, I was unwilling to endanger you. You see, I have recently found myself to be prone to accidents of a disturbing and suspicious nature.”

“Accidents!” He paled. “What…? Why…? Damnation! Who would have reason to harm you?”

“That’s what I hired Mr. Bond to discover.”

“I wish you’d seen fit to include me. Tobias and I could have overseen a thief-taker or Runner on your behalf. You could have avoided the ruse of an engagement to Mr. Bond.”

“It isn’t a ruse.” She lamented the shadow of confusion that swept over his features. “My relationship with Mr. Bond is twofold.”

Reynolds began to shift uncomfortably in his seat. He looked pained.

“If you have something to say, sir,” she prompted. “Please feel free. I respect your opinions and viewpoints as they relate to my business matters.”

He cleared his throat again. “I find the novelty of the series of events leading to the hiring of Mr. Bond to be…dubious. The circle begins when you’re subjected to incidences causing you to fear for your safety. Then, you hire a thief-taker. The result of which leads to the thief-taker successfully wooing you into accepting his proposal of marriage, despite his lack of suitability. I cannot help wondering if the end ties back to the beginning in a manner more closely related than surface appearances indicate.”

“You’re wondering whether it’s possible Mr. Bond is the source of my problem, as well as the solution to it? No, do not look chagrined! It is a fascinating hypothesis. I’m embarrassed I didn’t think of it myself.” She leaned back in her chair and allowed her mind to toy with the idea. “Mr. Bond would indeed be quite clever if he arranged to create circumstances necessitating his hiring, then used his employment to gain access to wooing me. However, considering my former aversion to marriage, I cannot see how anyone would imagine such machinations would be successful.”

“Your financial means and familial circumstances would certainly make the effort worthwhile. What would Mr. Bond have to lose? At the very least, he would be paid to solve a mystery of his own making, ensuring a satisfying conclusion for you and a financial reward for him.”

Eliza smiled. “I’m congratulating myself for hiring such a creative thinker for my man of affairs.”

Reynolds looked embarrassed. “You have always been so circumspect, especially about your suitors. Please allow me to continue investigating Mr. Bond. I’ll accept no fee for my services. Putting your mind at ease is the very least I can do.”

“I am not uneasy, Mr. Reynolds. Trust is of equal value to me as honesty. I’ve extended mine to Mr. Bond without reservation, and I have no wish to erode that foundation with needless doubts.”

He nodded. “As you wish.”

“Thank you, Mr. Reynolds. However, I do have something for you to look into. The Earl of Montague is creating an investment pool. I should like to know what speculation has garnered his interest and how you assess its viability.”

“Are you interested in joining the pool?”

“Not at this time. Lord Montague approached Mr. Bond about it, and I’m concerned as to whether or not the investment is sound.”

Reynolds withdrew his weekly report from his satchel and stood. “I’ll begin my inquiries straightaway.”

Eliza accepted the papers with a brisk nod. “Godspeed, sir.”

He gave a slight bow. “To you as well, Miss Martin.”

For the hour following Terrance Reynolds’s departure, Eliza worked diligently on a list of garments and items she would need for her trousseau. Her desire to replace her entire wardrobe with gowns of brighter hues and more provocative lines was just another sign of how much she’d changed since meeting Jasper. It was not an alteration of character she took lightly.

After contemplating the matter thoroughly, she understood that Jasper wasn’t the entirety of the reason why she was able to abandon long-held attitudes and beliefs. Her own ability to trust him enabled her transformation. She’d watched her mother falter through one relationship after another, spiraling deeper into melancholia with every failed romance. Whatever it was Georgina had been seeking in a partner, she’d been unable to find it. Eliza now suspected a lack of trust and honesty was to blame. All this time, she’d thought avoidance of romantic entanglements was the solution. In truth, the answer was simply to find a partner whom she could trust. Now she had only to cultivate her bond with Jasper through transparency and forthrightness.

A soft rapping on her open study door drew Eliza’s attention from the papers on her desk. Robbins stood on the threshold with the post in hand.

“Excuse me, miss.”

The butler entered and set the salver on the edge of her desk. “Will you be taking tea here, or with his lordship?”

“With Melville, thank you.”

Eliza stared at the unusually large pile of letters in front of her. She shifted through them, separating Melville’s correspondence from her own. The majority of her post was invitations, far more than she was accustomed to receiving. Confused by the sudden influx, she collected Melville’s missives and stood. She went to her uncle’s study and discovered him absent, then moved on to the conservatory. There she found him watering the plants he experimented with. The afternoon sunlight poured in through the many windows, warming the enclosed space and creating a noticeable humidity.

“Good afternoon, my lord,” she said upon entering.

Melville presented his cheek to her, and she pressed a kiss to it. “Eliza,” he said breathlessly. “Remember the splicing I shared with you? Look how it’s thriving!”

Eliza examined the two disparate plants, now connected at the stem. It made her think of her relationship with Jasper. “Beautiful. I can see why you’re so pleased.”

“Normally these plants grow best in a tropical climate, so I am doubly pleased by the success.” He beamed with pride, then noted the letters she carried. His smile faded, and he held out his hand with a sigh.

She handed the post to him. “Are you making any progress with responding to those who write to you?”

His wince was answer enough.

She shook her head. “Do you never miss the company of others, my lord?”

“I have all I need right here.” He set the mail atop potting soil scattered on the table.

“Perhaps others need you. Clearly they continue to extend their friendship to you, even though you don’t reply.”

Melville’s well-being was a growing concern to her. What would happen to him when they no longer shared a roof? She was his sole human connection to the world at large. Would he soon become completely estranged from Society, reliant upon the gazettes for news? It broke her heart to think of it.

He returned his attention to watering his plants. “Were you not determined to live a solitary life until a short time ago? Content with quiet walks, good books, and uninterrupted time with your ledgers?”

“I have you.”

“For how long? Eventually, I will move on to my reward.”

Eliza drew swirls in the soil with her fingertip. “The time you speak of is still far away.”

Melville glanced at her, but blessedly did not continue to speak of his demise. Instead he said, “Regardless, I am relieved to see you out of your mother’s shadow. It does my old heart good to know you’ve found someone with whom to share your life.”

“My mother’s shadow,” she repeated softly. “Have I moved out of it? I resemble her, and I’ve chosen a man similar to my father. Perhaps I have assumed her shadow and made it my own?”

“You have her beauty,” Melville agreed. “But also a steadfastness she lacked. Your footing is solid. Georgina’s was often unsteady.”

“You mean to say she was irresponsible.”

“I mean to say she was unstable. She could not maintain an even keel. She listed from one side to the other.” He flicked a small bug off a plant leaf. “Georgina is the reason I acquired an interest in horticulture. My hope was to find some combination of herbal elements to tame the mercurial quality of her moods.”

Eliza remembered those fluctuations all too well. Georgina would be giddy with happiness one week, then unable to rise from bed the next. “You think her ailment was physical? I have always believed she simply had poor judgment.”

“I was willing to consider any possibility. I would’ve searched the world for the key to her happiness, just as I would do for you.”

“Mr. Bond makes me happy. The only worry I have now is for you.”

He reached over and patted the back of her hand. “I’ll be well, so long as you are.”

Turning her hand over, she squeezed his. “Shall we retire to your study for tea?”

“Is it time already?” As if cued, Melville’s stomach grumbled with hunger. He set the watering pot down and dusted off his hands. Then, he proffered his forearm to her.

“Don’t forget the mail I brought you.”

He groaned, but gathered up the post. “You are certainly stubborn like your mother.”

They exited the conservatory and strolled the distance to his study in companionable silence. When they stepped into his private domain, Eliza took in the space where her uncle spent the majority of his day and knew she would miss these moments with him. For all his idiosyncrasies and foibles, she loved him dearly. She wondered how much time she might have to visit with him once she lived with Jasper. When Melville retreated to the country, would he be alone for months at a time? Now that she thought of it, she suspected Jasper spent all of the year in London due to his trade.

Melville set the latest post atop the leaning pile of mail in the basket by the door. Unable to bear the additional weight, the mass shifted to the side and dozens of letters tumbled to the floor. “Bloody nuisance,” he muttered, squatting to pick up the wayward missives.

Eliza joined him, raking letters toward her with widespread fingers.

“How odd,” he said to himself.

“What’s odd?” she queried.

“This seal.”

She focused on the black wax seal gracing the letter he held out to her. “It looks to be a sword crossing over…something.”

“An hourglass.”

“Interesting. To whom does that seal belong?”

“I’ve no notion. But there is another one…” He dug into the pile at his feet and withdrew a second letter bearing the same image in black wax. “See here.”

He opened the letter, dropping the others to the floor in the process. As he read, he frowned. Then, he grew very pale.

“What is it?” she asked, alarmed.

“It appears to be a threat of violence”-Melville held the letter out to her-“against you.”