Chapter Twenty-One

Hard. Warm. Addicting .

A low hum of pleasure rolled from her as Rosamunde tasted Bryn. A slightly musky yet masculine flavor.

She clenched her core as desire washed through her. Unchecked. Powerful. Desperate.

Rosamunde couldn’t say what had possessed her to take him into her mouth like this. Only thing she was confident in was her desire to give him the pleasure he’d given her. She wanted to know what his taste was, experience the heavy weight of his cock on her tongue.

I want to make him lose control like he does to me.

Swiping her tongue along the head of his cock, she flicked her gaze up to find his locked on her. The blue deep and swirling with untold emotions. Ones she wasn’t even sure she was ready to dive into, or think about what they meant.

Rosamunde inched closer to the edge of her current seat and sucked him in deeper, eyes drifting closed with pleasure. Unknown territory for her but she didn’t care, right now she was moving on instinct.

She sucked him deep, needing to feel him within her any way she could get him. Sweeping around his shaft with her tongue, she allowed herself to learn him, which spots earned moans, which ones curses.

Releasing him with a moan, she opened her eyes once more and waited, heart pounding hard against her chest.

“If I were a better man, lioness, I would tell you to stop. Tell you that it’s not necessary for you to do this.”

She waited and he threaded his fingers through her hair, gently at first, then adding a bit of a bite to his movement through her strands. She rolled her lower lip in her mouth and waited, wanting him back between her lips.

“I’m not going to do that. I’ve had dreams of you doing this.” He tipped his head to the side. “Of course, in some of them, you’re naked and on your knees. Or in nothing but a goddamn corset pushing your full breasts up to me like a fucking offering.” He tightened his hand, scraping blunt nails along her scalp. The twinges he elicited within her were shocking.

His blunt words hummed pleasure inside her, and her thighs slickened as her sex softened with craving and preparation.

With a soft smile, aimed more at herself than anything, she swallowed him deep once more. Soft yet hard, silk on steel. Bending forward, she took more and more until the fat head nudged the back of her throat.

Holding tight there, she moaned around his thickness, stretching her and making her eyes water before backing up slowly, allowing his shaft to withdraw. His hitching breath, poured power into her.

I’m doing that to him. I’m making him lose control.

And she was. The small pop when his erection escaped her mouth made her reach out and curve her hand around him, near the base. His darker skin vividly different from her pale.

She pumped her hand, now slickened by her saliva, again, slow, learning him. His reactions. Every second she touched him, the deeper her own need became. She glanced up, watching the cords in his neck stick out as he nearly vibrated with his effort to remain still.

Rosamunde didn’t doubt he could overpower her in a second and take control of the situation. He could have his length inside her however he wanted. But he strained to hold himself in check.

For her.

For me. A heady emotion.

She worked her hand up and down his shaft, gaze shifting to follow her movements and to watch him, the raw masculine pleasure on his features. Mesmerizing .

“I want you naked.”

The words slipped from her but she wasn’t taking them back. She wanted the chance to see and explore him as he’d done her.

“No.”

She started at his refusal and her hand slowed. Bryn tugged on her hair, the pain enough to get her out of her own head.

“I strip, I lose control and fuck you. Right now, I want that hot mouth back on me.” He jutted his chin at her. “Take me back in your mouth, baby.”

His cock bumped her cheek and she parted her lips without thought.

Bryn sighed in blatant pleasure as she took him in once more. She worked her fist on the part of him she couldn’t swallow. Bobbing her head, she sucked him. Fast. Hard. Slow. Gentle.

Body tight again, his powerful thighs bunched against her breasts. Free hand sliding around to grip his ass, she dug her nails into him, anchoring him as close as she could.

Teasing him, swiping at the helmet-shaped head as her tongue dipped into the slit on his crown. His taste was incredible and she was instantly addicted. More, her body cried.

Releasing his shaft, she grasped his thigh with her other hand and only used her mouth. She wanted all of him. Rosamunde ran her tongue up the long length, swirled it around the crown of the plum-colored, almost angry head, then took him in again.

His size choked her and yet, instead of pulling back, she took even more. Something had been born within her that made her crave his praise. Wanting him to push her to her limits, craving that hint of vulnerability combined with the bite that bordered pain and pleasure. Longing to learn anything and all he would teach her. This was all new to her but it aroused her similarly to how his touch on her intimate parts did. But this time, it was from her pleasing him. Following his instructions.

“You’re such a good girl, taking me like this. Relax your throat, baby. Take more of me in.”

She obeyed, trusting him in a way she didn’t think she would ever trust another. Relaxing her throat as numerous tears streamed from her eyes she continued, needing, craving to do this for him. She gagged.

Bryn’s touch softened on the back of her head.

“Fuckin’ hell, baby. You’re doing such a good job.” His hold tightened again, adding to the tears, only to instantly release her. “Sorry.”

He didn’t need to apologize, she’d enjoyed it. Not that she would stop long enough to tell him. Digging her nails in deeper, she purred when his grip returned.

“I get it, baby. You like the pain.”

Yeah. She did. But only pain that he gave her. His words grew dirtier. Telling her how much he loved what she did to him. Moans and pleas which pushed her to do more. To take more.

His hips began to thrust and each move drove his thickness deeper, making her choke and her eyes tear up more. She absolutely loved it.

“Harder, baby, suck me harder.”

Shuddering as pleasure pushed through her, Rosamunde obeyed. Her jaw ached from doing something she’d never come close to doing before. Eyes hurt from the tears continuing to stream free and her throat, well, yes it was sore, but she didn’t mind.

Mumbled words drifted to her ears that she couldn’t digest, so focused was she on her task. His length swelled and she didn’t think she could take any more.

Bryn growled and began to move backward.

No!

She held tight, not entirely positive what was coming, but wanting to experience every last bit of it. A rumbling growl took him and moved through her, centering in her core. Moments later, she felt him jerk and his release filled her, shooting down her throat.

Rosamunde swallowed it hungrily, refusing to let any go.

Bryn took a stumbling step back, pulling his cock free, eyes wild as he stared down at her. Teeth bared, he bent at the waist and slammed his mouth over hers. She released his thighs and parted her lips as he surged inside.

She skimmed her hands up his torso, wishing beyond everything he hadn’t refused getting naked. The linen beneath her fingers barely contained the power she knew to lay beneath. His strong hands cupped her face, oddly gentle given the assertiveness in the kiss.

Tugging, he got her to her feet before folding her into him. Rosamunde soaked it up. She loved the press of his body to hers, making her feel protected. Fragile. Feminine.

His cock dug into her, covered in a mix of her saliva and his release. Unable to resist, she skated one hand back over his torso until she could curl her fingers around his length.

“Lioness.”

It was rumbled, even though he never took his lips from hers.

The sad truth was, this was all they would ever have. Stolen moments, and even those had an expiration date. Sooner than she would like to admit. She fisted him, pumping him, loving the feel of his heavy weight in her hand, wishing beyond anything she could have him again.

Winding one arm around his neck, she pushed herself into him more. Sucking on his tongue, she purred in the back of her throat. He traced his hands along her figure, settling upon her hips and began to lift.

Rosamunde shook her head. “No.”

He drew back enough to see her eyes. His blue eyes flickered in the fire and she whimpered. This hurt more than she thought possible.

“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you before? Was it too rough?” He furrowed his brow. “Was I too rough with you?”

Tears for a different reason pricked the backs of her eyes. “No, I loved everything about what happened.” She brushed the pads of her fingers along his jaw. “I have to go.”

She witnessed the immediate denial coming to his lips and she shook her head before he could voice it. Backing to the door, she pressed her fingers to her lips and forced a smile.

“Thank you for everything. There’s no need to continue our arrangement as you no longer train my brother.” Digging deep, she fought off the desire to throw herself into his arms and ask him to take her with him to America. “Goodbye, Bryn. Have a good life.”

She walked out of the room, to the front door and out of Bryn St. Martin’s life.

Her exit from the house wasn’t as private as she would have liked. Keely was there and pulled her into one last adventure together. A sad smile on her face, she climbed into the waiting carriage, trying to resign herself to a life without love after having experienced it firsthand.

* * * *

What the actual fuck ?

Knees shaking from the intensity of the orgasm she’d just given him, his dick hanging out of the flaps of his pants, Bryn couldn’t run after her until he’d put himself away, and his fingers weren’t the most reliable either. Once he’d managed to button up—the two goddamn buttons that had allowed the intense pleasure to happen—and stepped out into the hallway, he knew she was gone.

Felt it in his soul.

And he hated it.

This woman had given him everything he’d been dumb enough to believe he wanted. No strings. No commitment. Not even a plea or three asking him to save her, pay off the money to give her the freedom she desperately desired.

It had been all over her face how much she’d wanted to get away from the life she’d been born into. No request had ever come. She’d never even hinted at it.

Quite the opposite actually.

The times that he’d slipped up and mentioned things about the future, she’d shot him down with a laugh and some self-deprecating comment.

And now, after having the pleasurable experience of her body, her legs clamped around him as she cried his name to the room and perhaps the entire gaming hell… Enjoying the pleasure of her taste on his tongue, her nails raking his scalp as she tugged on his hair. Hell, even the unforgettable sight of her perched at the edge of her chair as she sucked his cock better than any woman he’d been with before. All of it had led to this moment. Him alone as he’d trained his brain to lie to him about in regards to her. His heart as well.

And she walks away from me.

Blow to the ego? Yes.

Breaking his heart?

Fuck yes.

Even though it was pointless, he still yanked open the front door of his family town home. Nothing. No sign of her, either direction.

“Can I help you, my lord?”

Turning, he found the family’s butler standing there, face without a shred of expression. As usual.

“Miss Fletcher?”

“She and Miss St. Martin left. I believe your sister mentioned taking Miss Fletcher home.”

Less than pleased she wasn’t with him, he knew she was safe with his sister. Still didn’t stop the gnawing at his conscience that he was making one colossal mistake letting this woman go.

Exhaling slowly, he patted the butler, Draper, on the shoulder as Bryn shuffled by him, exhausted suddenly both emotionally and physically.

“Begging your pardon, my lord, but are you well? Could I get you anything?”

He paused and turned back to the man he’d had in his life since his mother had brought them over from America, a second father if he cared to think about it. Draper traded off with Weeks a lot and so Bryn knew him very well. He’d been consistent in Bryn’s life, always there when they were in the city.

“I thought so.” He shrugged. I can’t let her go. I have to find a way to keep this woman in my life.

The stern countenance softened. “I watched you grow from a young lad to the man you are today, my lord. There have been a lot of stages to you, but until Miss Fletcher blew into your life, I’ve not seen this look of determination on you.”

An amused chuckle slipped free. “You saw a lot more than I gave you credit for over the years, didn’t you?”

“It’s been an honor watching you grow, my lord.” A deep breath moved the thin chest. “For what it’s worth, love isn’t something you should simply give up on because you have a plan to go somewhere else. Your Miss Fletcher is a very special person.”

Bryn nodded. “That she is.” He patted the butler on the shoulder and walked off. “Goodnight, Draper.”

“Goodnight, my lord. One more thing.”

He turned back to the man and lifted one eyebrow in silent question.

“Grandbabies do liven up a place. And a woman like her is rare and would be great at your side during these difficult times.” Draper gifted him a rare smile.

Babies. Baby. One or more. None of it mattered. All that did was now he could only think about Rosamunde swollen with his child. A little girl who had her hair and eyes, or a little boy.

“Duly noted.” Difficult time? What’s he talking about?

“Goodnight, my lord.”

This time Bryn waved over his shoulder as he took the stairs two at a time until he reached the level where his room resided. Pushing open the door, he paused at the sight of his father standing there over his trunk, lid open.

“Papa?”

The Marquess of Heartstone, a man who had appeared sturdy as a mountain since the day he’d met him, suddenly looked old. And tired.

Blue eyes were sad when they met his.

Instantly moving closer to his father, he reached out, settling a hand on the dark sleeve covering his arm. The muscles beneath his palm flexed.

“Your grandfather passed away today.”

Shock crashed through Bryn and he jerked back like he’d been struck. Had he been so wrapped up in his own business, in his own issues, like one—completely adorable, sure—Rosamunde Fletcher, that he’d completely missed out on saying goodbye to his grandfather?

Shame flared as he locked his knees.

His father immediately shook his head. “He didn’t want anyone to see him in his last days, sick in bed, son. He wanted you to remember him healthy.”

“You and Mama, that’s why you’ve been gone so much.”

His father nodded and pulled him in for a hug. “Not your fault, Brenden. He knew you loved him.”

Bryn’s mind raced. “I did. How…how are Keely and Henry doing?”

“They’re waiting for us at Stokley Manor. Well, Henry is there with your mother and Keely will be there shortly.”

Bryn nodded and headed to the door with his father on his heels. They marched down the stairs and out the front to find a carriage waiting. The tiger held the door for them and he waited for his father to get in first. Door closing after his entrance, he listened to the rap on the ceiling and took a deep breath when the carriage rolled off.

Not much more than an hour passed and they were at Stokley Manor. Bryn exited after his father and watched him stride up the steps to the large door, which opened before the new Duke of Stokley got there. The somberness of the place smacked Bryn in moments.

He stood back as his mother stepped into view and walked directly to his father and wrapped her arms around him. Bryn swallowed as his father, a man he respected more than anything, who had always appeared strong and unbreakable to him, dipped his head and settled it into her neck, a tremor working through him.

That’s what I want. The unconditional love and support.

And damn if he didn’t want to do it with anyone other than Rosamunde Fletcher.