The Blushing Harlot (When the Wallflowers were Wicked Book 4) Page 11
A moment later, Rebecca caught on. Her mouth dropped open, but it took another moment before she had the sense to say, “You’re Baron Wharton?”
“The tenth Baron Wharton, to be exact,” he said, his smile growing. “Or I will be when my father’s time on this earth is over.”
Rebecca scooted around so that she could look more fully at him. His revelation was such a surprise that she barely registered she was having the conversation stark naked. “But if you’re a baron to be, why are you living in a tiny flat and working as a Bow Street Runner?” Although it suddenly made sense how he could afford a flat in such a prestigious location.
“My sister was violated,” Nigel answered, suddenly serious. More than serious, he was furious. “I refused to stand by and do nothing. I worked with the Runners to find her attacker. As it happened, I had a talent for investigation. Gibbon—my superior—offered me a job. My father was so proud of what I’d done to protect Emmaline, that he gave his blessing.”
“How unusual,” Rebecca said. She started to sit, but was reminded of how sore her backside was and bounced up to her knees once more.
Nigel’s face darkened again. “Catching diamond thieves is one thing, but I have no patience whatsoever for anyone who hurts women, even other women.”
He moved closer to her and helped her to lay on her stomach once more. Rebecca expected pity or deeper anger from him, but when she turned her head to the side to gauge his expression, a sensual smolder lit his eyes. That look sent a whole new kind of heat to her nether region.
“I hate that she did this to you,” he said in a rough voice, studying her backside.
She opened her mouth to reassure him that the worst of it was over now, but he reached out, caressing her tender backside. The sting of pain returned, but with it an almost incomprehensible rush of pleasure. That pleasure only increased as he stroked her punished flesh.
“If it hurts too much, tell me to stop,” he said, his voice little more than a rumble.
“Don’t stop,” she sighed, tilting her hips up toward him.
But he did stop. Ripples of disappointment shot through her as his weight left the bed. At least until she realized he’d stood in order to shed his clothes.
Desire pulsed through her, and she pushed up to her knees once more as he yanked off his boots and threw them aside. She watched, enraptured, as he shrugged out of his jacket, unbuttoned his waistcoat, and pulled it and his shirt off over his head. He reached for the falls of his breeches, but Rebecca stopped him.
“Let me,” she said. “Please let me.”
Nigel studied her with passion-hooded eyes before moving to the side of the bed. His breeches were already tented, and she went to work enthusiastically undoing the buttons so that she could free him. Her sex squeezed in anticipation as his cock lifted free of its confinement. She sighed in satisfaction as she pushed his breeches down over his hips, then took him in both hands.
“I wanted to explore you this afternoon,” she said breathlessly, “but you wouldn’t let me.”
“I wouldn’t have lasted,” he said, sucking in a breath and growling as she stroked his length.
He seemed to grow in her hands, becoming as hard as iron. “But now?”
“Now, I’ll hold back for as long as you want.”
A mischievous giggle tickled the back of her throat. That wasn’t the only thing she wanted tickling the back of her throat, though. She tested the weight of his sack with one hand, feeling him tense at the touch, while rubbing her thumb around the flared head of his penis. Already, a touch of pearl was forming there.
Her sex throbbed with excitement as she bent forward to lick that dot. He sucked in a breath, which she found so irresistible that she licked him again. She did more than that. She kissed the tip of his penis, then again with her mouth open. His taste was masculine and salty, and instantly she wanted more.
She brought the whole head of his penis into her mouth, flickering her tongue across the underside. An uninhibited sigh of satisfaction ripped out of him. She wanted to hear more of that. She wanted him moaning uncontrollably, the way she had when he’d been so deep inside of her. So she drew him in deeper, relaxing her mouth and throat as much as she could. It was fascinating, scintillating, to pleasure him that way. She pulled back a bit, then drew him in deeper, over and over until she felt she could swallow him more fully.
“Darling, you’re killing me,” Nigel groaned at one point. But when she stopped to glance questioningly up at him, he said, “Keep on killing me.”
She grinned, then took him into her mouth once more. Whenever she’d seen her sister Mary do the same to Lord Grey, she’d always felt a bit of revulsion. But, in fact, as she bore down on Nigel, challenging herself to see how much of him she could take, power surged through her. She had the power to make this huge, fierce man cry out with pleasure, to make him lose control. She even felt powerful when he grabbed fists full of her hair and guided her to move faster, taking him deeper.
Just when she felt something shift in him and the tension within his body mount, he stepped away, his cock slipping out of her mouth with an almost comical sound.
“Not this way,” he panted. “In you.”
Rebecca’s sex throbbed in response. She was exhausted, sore, and her backside continued to sting, but all she wanted was to spread her legs and have him plunder her. She wanted to feel the heat of him bursting within her, knowing his seed could take hold.
He climbed onto the bed with her, but rather than splaying her on her back, he lifted her so that she was kneeling in front of him, facing away from him. Her burning backside nestled against the curve of his hips, but the sting was nothing to the pleasure pulsing through her. He reached around, closing his hands around her breasts and kneading them.
“So soft,” he growled. He jerked his hips against hers.
The thick heat of his cock wedged between her legs, rubbing against her aching sex in a way that was deliciously teasing without satisfying. He continued to squeeze her breasts, working her nipples into hard points.
“Do you want me to fuck you?” he growled against her ear. She sighed with need. “After everything you’ve been through this evening? Do you want my hard cock deep in your pussy?”
“Yes,” she sighed. She’d never meant the word more in her life.
At least, not until Nigel asked, “Do you want to be my wife? Do you want me to fuck you senseless every night? Do you want me to fill your womb with babies?” He pinched both of her nipples as he asked.
She gasped at the sensation, then groaned, “Yes, yes, dear God, yes.” She was shocked at how frantic and needy her words sounded, but she wasn’t at all surprised at how desperately she meant them.
“My Rebecca,” Nigel purred against her ear. He slipped one hand from her breast to her sex, parting her folds so that he could stroke her clitoris. “My wife.”
The sensations he ignited in her were so powerful that they eclipsed all of the pain and humiliation she’d experienced. Her body was already on fire, but it seemed to be engulfed in flame as his hand worked on her. She was so primed and ready that in no time at all she gasped and cried out as she came.
The throbbing pleasure had only begun when he bent her forward, spreading her knees and lifting her hips. She barely had time to balance on her forearms before he guided himself to her entrance and thrust home. She cried out as her already tender body protested for a moment, but that moment of soreness was eclipsed by the bone-deep pleasure of having him fill her. It was an entirely different sensation from what she’d experienced that afternoon, but amazing all the same. He stretched her, stroked her, and filled her to the point of breaking. She’d challenged herself to take him deeper and deeper into her mouth, and now he seemed to be doing the same with his cock sinking farther and farther into her quim with each thrust. She could feel him so deep within her that when he did finally tense and cry out in orgasm, she was certain his seed shot straight to her womb.
At last
, he groaned and released her, and they both tumbled, thoroughly spent, to the bed. Rebecca’s cheeks blazed with the afterglow of their mating. As hot as she was, it was bliss when Nigel pulled her into his arms, shielding her bruised body with his powerful one.
“You’re mine,” he sighed, stroking her sides and breasts as her back pressed into his chest. “Let someone else catch the diamond thief. I’ve caught you, and that’s all that matters. You’ll always be mine. I’ll never let you feel hurt or slighted again. I’ll only make you feel loved. I love you.”
A pleasure far deeper than lust poured through every part of her. She felt his promise as if it were the air she breathed and the sunlight that warmed her. “I love you too, Nigel,” she said in return, reaching back to rest a hand on his hip. “And I promise I’ll always make sure you feel it. I’ll make you the happiest man alive.”
“I’m already the happiest man alive,” Nigel said, closing a hand around her breast and pinching her nipple. “I have you.”
Epilogue
Jo’s heart was filled with joy as she and Caro stood on the stairs of Miss Dobson’s school, watching Mr. Kent carry Rebecca out of the wretched place and off to what Jo could only hope would be a magnificent new life. She’d seen everything that Miss Dobson had done to poor Rebecca in the wine cellar, and she didn’t think she would ever be able to forgive the wicked old woman, especially as she knew everything Miss Dobson said was pure hypocrisy.
“This is outrageous,” Miss Dobson railed once Mr. Kent and Rebecca and Lord Landsbury were gone. She whipped to face the throng of young ladies who had clustered in the hallway to watch the unfolding drama. “Let this be a lesson to you all,” she went on, her head held high and her nose in the air. “Wicked little harlots get what is coming to them. Miss Burgess will be ruined by this, utterly ruined. She’ll never be able to hold her head up in polite society again. Is that what the lot of you want?”
The stunned girls watched her for a moment before Miss Conyer said, “No, miss,” in a demanding voice.
“We would rather die,” Miss Cade agreed, glaring at the pupils nearest her. “Wouldn’t we?”
The others seemed to sense the tide had turned and if they wanted to keep their backsides pristine and their knuckles un-rapped, the best thing to do was to keep quiet and go along. One by one, they rushed back to whatever they had been doing before the scene had unfolded. Several charged up the stairs, likely heading for their bedrooms.
“We’d better retire for the evening,” Caro whispered to Jo, glancing warily at Miss Dobson.
Jo nodded in agreement, but they were too late.
“You,” Miss Dobson shouted, rushing halfway up the stairs. The other pupils scattered, probably fearing they’d be caught in whatever horrible net Miss Dobson was about to throw. “It was you, wasn’t it?” She glared at Jo.
“Me, Miss Dobson?” Jo feigned innocence.
“You defended the wicked Miss Burgess.” Miss Dobson narrowed her eyes more as she came to a stop one step above Jo and Caro, likely so that she could tower over them. “You brought that man here.”
“How could I have, miss?” Jo squeaked, pretending to be far more afraid of Miss Dobson than she was.
“You and Lady Caroline are thick as thieves with Miss Burgess. You were the ones who sounded the alarm,” Miss Dobson went on.
“We couldn’t have, miss,” Caro said, pretending to cower right along with Jo. “Other than the fact that we wouldn’t dare, you know as well as anyone that we’ve been secure in the school all day.”
“Yes,” Jo said. “Miss Warren was guarding the door all day. And we were engaged in quiet contemplation in our room all afternoon.”
“Miss Cade can attest to that,” Caro added.
Miss Dobson bared her teeth in a snarl. She raised her hand slightly, and Jo was certain she was going to strike. But in the end, she lowered her arm and hissed a curse so salty it had Jo and Caro’s eyebrows shooting up to their hairlines. “You’re right,” she hissed. “It couldn’t have been you. But I’ll find out who it was.” She started back down the stairs, but just when Jo thought it was safe to continue up to their room, Miss Dobson snapped back to her, glaring. “I’ve got my eye on you. On both of you.” She pointed a finger at Jo and Caro. “You’re as degenerate as Miss Burgess. I have no doubt that you’ll show your true colors before long. I’ll be ready.”
With a final, sinister sneer, Miss Dobson turned and marched back down the stairs. Jo didn’t breathe in relief until she and Caro had reached the next floor, and she didn’t dare say a word until they were safe in their room.
“She doesn’t know about the secret passageway,” Jo said, flopping on her bed. “If she did, she would have realized how I got out.”
“And you made it to Lord Landsbury’s house without incident?” Caro asked. Instead of sitting, she paced the center of the room. “I’m so sorry that I was waylaid and couldn’t continue on with you.”
“It was a good thing you were stopped,” Jo said, sitting straight. “Because now we know that Lord Herrington isn’t the diamond thief.”
“We don’t know for certain,” Caro said, rubbing her arms as she paced. “Although I was never convinced it was him in the first place.”
“But the way you spoke to him,” Jo went on. “The hints you dropped about wanting to purchase the diamond, of being willing to give him anything he wanted for it. He didn’t know what you were talking about.”
Caro flushed, a slow smile spreading across her lips. “He seemed interested enough in my offer to give him anything he asked for.”
Jo blinked in surprise. Was that the sort of thing that had gone on between Caro and Lord Herrington after she’d rushed on to Lord Lansbury’s house.
Caro shook her head and stopped pacing. “No, if what I’ve been told is correct, Lord Herrington is so desperate for money that he would have at least shown some interest in my offer. The poor thing knew he couldn’t afford my other offer as well.”
“Your other offer?”
Caro sent her a blunt look. “Gentlemen don’t bed women if they know they can’t afford the consequences. And I believe Lord Herrington is a good man.”
“How do you know that?” Jo asked.
“Feminine intuition.”
Jo eyed her skeptically. “He is rather handsome.”
For a moment, she thought Caro would be upset. But then she giggled. A moment after that, she shook her head and resumed her pacing. “No, Lord Herrington isn’t the diamond thief.”
“So it must be Lord Lichfield,” Jo reasoned.
“It could be any number of men,” Caro sighed, sitting on her bed at last. “We have so much work to do.”
“And I’m glad for it,” Jo said, confidence welling within her. “It will give us something to think about besides how horrible this place is.”
“It is horrible,” Caro agreed. “I can’t believe that Miss Dobson will be able to hold onto the place very long after today, though.”
“But she owns it,” Jo said. “There’s no way to take it from her. The only way it would close is if too many parents withdrew their daughters. But I know my mother would never do that. Not after—” She pinched her mouth closed, embarrassment over the event that had branded her as bad and in need of reform in her parent’s eyes rushing back in on her. She let out a breath and shook her head. “Let’s focus on the diamond thief. Specifically, let’s focus on Lord Lichfield.
“You believe he is the thief?” Caro asked.
“Yes, I do,” Jo said. “And with a little luck, I’ll be able to prove it.”
I hope you’ve enjoyed Rebecca and Nigel’s story! The two of them just had to end up together. But as you can see, the bigger story isn’t over yet. Can Lord Rufus Herrington truly be ruled out as the diamond thief? Is Lord Felix Lichfield the real culprit? Or perhaps Mr. Wallace Newman? Or could it be Mr. Khan himself? Jo and Caro will keep on investigating, aided by the secret passageway.
But what happens when J
o’s parents suddenly pull her out of school with the intent of marrying her off to a man desperate for a wife and an heir? What happens when that man turns out to be none other than Felix Lichfield himself? Can Jo prove he’s the diamond thief or will her efforts to entrap him earn her a sexy spanking? Jo is about to find out just how Felix earned his sensual reputation…but the answer might not be what she or you think. Find out in Book 5 of When the Wallflowers were Wicked, The Cheeky Minx.
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Merry Farmer is an award-winning novelist who lives in suburban Philadelphia with her cats, Torpedo, her grumpy old man, and Justine, her hyperactive new baby. She has been writing since she was ten years old and realized one day that she didn't have to wait for the teacher to assign a creative writing project to write something. It was the best day of her life. She then went on to earn not one but two degrees in History so that she would always have something to write about. Her books have reached the Top 100 at Amazon, iBooks, and Barnes & Noble, and have been named finalists in the prestigious RONE and Rom Com Reader’s Crown awards.