Chapter 15

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

I t was early in the evening, and Frederick found himself alone in his drawing room. The garden party was still in full-swing, and even with the door closed, he could still hear it. Strangely, a small part of Frederick wished to go back outside and join in the festivities—a truly bizarre notion, he knew. And the reason for that desire was even stranger.

He had to get away from Miss Dowding. It was as simple as that. They had been drinking together, somehow enjoying their conversation with little to no argument or hostilities, and Frederick was forced to concede how terrible a situation it was that he had found himself in. Worse than anything he might imagine.

Frederick could not afford to feel that way around Miss Dowding. He could not let himself succumb to not only the temptation that besieged him whenever he thought of her but to simply enjoy her company was more than he could bear. It was dangerous was why. Fraught with consequence. And what was more… guilt.

Since his daughter had not even been old enough to speak, Frederick had known that he would one day need to take a wife again. It was expected and proper, and he really had no choice in the matter. But after his last marriage, and how tragically it had ended, he had to be careful with whom he got close to and whom he chose as a mate. Deep down, he believed that whoever that was would end up hating him as his last wife did which would only lead to… well, nothing good.

And while it was far too early to consider Miss Dowding in this way, he knew it was better to be safe than sorry. If not for his own sake, for hers.

So, he disappeared when she paid visit to the washroom, knowing that such an act would annoy her enough that she would likely leave it be, happy to simmer with anger as it would serve as a reminder that he was no good, that they were no good together, and she would do better to simply avoid him.

A glass of brandy in hand, he sipped it lightly, content to wait until the party ended, and he might retire to his room without being seen or?—

A knock at the door had him sitting up. Frederick froze, careful not to make a noise.

"Your Grace…" The voice was unmistakable, and it had Frederick nearly calling out as he felt that pull and desire begin to bubble within. But he held his tongue, begging that she might leave. "Your Grace," she called again. "Are you there…"

A moment's pause. Certain that she was going to give up. Only… no. The door cracked open, and Caroline poked her head inside. She saw him sitting there and grinned at the sight.

"Now, if I did not know any better, I would have guessed you were trying to hide from me." A little titter, and she stepped inside.

"Perhaps you do know better," he said shortly, forcing himself to be stern and curt. "For why else would I be here?"

She paused at that, half-way into the room, the harshness of his remark catching her by surprise. "Well… I suppose I assumed that one of Esther's guests was trying to force his niece upon you, so you decided to go into hiding." She laughed awkwardly, seeming to pray that he was only joking and would pick up on the humor.

"No, you were right the first time." He levelled a glare at her. "I suggest that you follow those instincts of yours before you get yourself into trouble."

He needed her to leave. He did not care how it happened, what he had to say to see her turn and walk away. That she would be gone from here was good enough, better if she left with her tail between her legs and confirmed finally that he was a no-good sort who was better to be avoided. They had started off hating one another, and barring this single day, there was no reason it should not continue.

Things were just safer that way.

"Well, that is not very nice."

"You seem to have me mistaken for somebody else," he sneered, taking another sip of brandy. "Hello, have we not met?"

She looked at him as if she was seeing him for the first time. Standing in the open doorway, brow furrowed, leaning back as if the room had a putrid odor she was trying to avoid, there was no doubt on his mind that for all the joy the two had shared in this day, those old feelings she felt for him of disgust and loathing were slowly starting to creep back into her frame of conscience.

"Forgive me," she said, a slight sneer. "The man whom I was speaking with earlier, he must have left."

"No, he is still here. He is just bored with playing your little game is all."

"And what game is that?"

"Pretending that the sight of you doesn't make him want to wretch." He hated saying it, but he stayed strong…

"Is that what you were doing, was it?" she sneered at him, taking a step into the room, seeming to ready herself for his attack. "Because you sure had me fooled."

"Is it my fault that you are simple?"

"I must be that. For only a true dolt could have mistaken you for anything close to a gentleman. What I should have realized was that the dogs kept as pets by the stable hands might have made for better company."

His eyes widened at the slur. For as rude as he was being, Frederick was still not used to being spoken to like that. And while deep down he knew he deserved it… that did not make it any easier to bear.

"Too good for you, I am afraid. I heard some of them howling earlier, and I can only assume the cause was that they saw you walking by, and unable to literally tear their own eyes out, they became lost in a frenzy."

Her eyes flashed. "How dare?—"

"Now please," he spoke over her and waved her away, "begone from my sight. Do us both the favor."

There, that should do it. Not a pleasant experience, but Frederick allowed himself to breathe a sigh of relief, certain that this here would be the end of their little dalliance. It had to be!

"No." She stepped into the room fully and crossed her arms.

"No?" he baulked.

"No," she said again. "Not until you tell me why."

"Why what?"

"Why you are acting this way." She raised both eyebrows at him. "For I do not believe for a moment it was some… some act." She scoffed. "Unless what they say about you is true."

Sensing that he was not going to like the words she brandished, Frederick put down his glass of brandy. "And what do they say?"

"Many things," she sneered. "But some choice words thrown around—today, mind you. I heard them all. Arrogant. Pigheaded. Egotistical to a point where I heard two men wondering how you managed to stand with a head that large. And, oh yes, an eyesore that would make the Hunchback of Notre Dame blush."

Fury. White hot anger. It flooded Frederick in that moment for never in his life had he been insulted like that. Without thinking, without being able to, he stood quickly and strode toward Miss Dowding. A big man, he bore down on her like a monster from myth, fully expecting her to retreat and flee as he wished.

But she stayed firm, arms still crossed, glaring up at him as if her eyes might spew fire and set him alight. And oh, how dangerous it was.

He could feel it happening again. As with the first time, as with the second, it was her cantankerous nature which pulled on him like nothing he had felt before. That desire to take her in his arms, to hold her down, and to remind her who was in control here was more than he could bare.

And the way that she looked… the tight green dress, how it pushed up her breasts and hugged her curves. The fire in the room's hearth too, flickering off her white skin, making it glimmer from a light sweat. Her eyes were mischievous, her lips were tempting.

"Is that what you think?" he growled, feeling his blood pulse through his body, his legs shaking, his mouth salivating. "Is that how you see me?"

She scoffed. "That and worse."

Even in her rage, he caught her eyes flicking over him. He saw a look behind them that he recognized because he had the same in his own eyes. A hunger behind them, a yearning that was the very reason she did not leave when he told her to. Oh, she might claim to despise him, but in that moment, he understood well enough the real reason she had followed him here.

Dangerous… and so very, very tempting.

"Is that so," he snarled at her. "And when we first met? Somehow, I doubt you held me in that same view."

"And what does that mean?" she snarled back.

He laughed as he took a step closer, standing over her now, so close that he could feel the heat of her breath. "That first time we met, it was lucky that my grandmother interrupted us when she did. Luckly for you, I mean."

"I have no idea what you mean."

"And the second time?" he pressed on her, daring to reach out, his hand gripping her waist in a way that should have had her pushing him back only she stepped into it.

"Ah, you mean when you attacked me…" She flashed her eyes at him and licked her lips hungrily.

"Is that what I did?" he pretended to think. "You did not seem to mind."

"I was caught off guard," she said warningly, still allowing his hand to grip her waist. "I will not make the same mistake again."

"I do not remember you pushing me away."

"Would that stop you." Her eyes flicked to his hand and then back to meet his eyes. "I never took you for one who liked being told what to do."

"I could say the same of you."

"And the punishment you threatened me with? Perhaps…" A smirk which she turned into a scowl as she held his gaze. "Perhaps I was scared."

"I would not take you for one to cower so easily."

"And I would not take you for one to back down, regardless of how repulsive I find you." Somehow, she stepped in ever closer, almost under him, looking up now so as to hold his stare.

"I am not used to not getting what I want," he growled, his heart beginning to rise as his arousal grew. Even if she could not see it, surely, she could feel it, the way his pants tightened, threatening to burst. "And I meant what I said."

"You'll have to remind me for you have said so many things."

"About…" Hesitation, for he had reached a point of no return. He could feel her heart racing with his own. He could feel her breathing tremble. She wanted this as much as he did, both seeming to know how wrong it was, both not caring. "About having to punish you."

She hesitated at that, seemed to consider. "Wh - what sort of punishment?" Her voice trembled.

"One that you most deserve," he breathed. "But I suppose that depends on how bad you have been. Tell me, Miss Dowding, have you been bad?"

He could see it in her eyes, fear mixed with temptation. She didn't know exactly what he spoke of, but she wanted it. "I followed you in here, did I not? I refused to leave."

"You will have to do better than that."

"And if you let me leave right now, I will… I will…" she considered. "I will tell everyone at this party what a monster you are. That you… that you threw me out. Mistreated me, even."

"You would not dare."

She raised an eyebrow. "Care to take that chance."

His other hand moved to her waist. "I best not let you leave then."

"You best not."

That was when he broke.

Still holding her by the waist, still glaring down at her, teeth bared and vicious, he moved one hand to the back of her head, gripped it firmly, and then pulled her forward to meet his lips. They pressed together in a glorious combination of skin and saliva and tongue, mouths opening, tongues lapping, breath catching as they devoured one another right there on the couch.

His other hand squeezed her tightly, and she gasped but did not move away, both her hands around his face now, holding him there as they continued to kiss. It was ecstasy, the taste of her, the feel of her trembling and purring and moaning as they melted into one another. Such an intoxicating sensation that Frederick did not want to stop.

In the back of his mind, thoughts of punishing her raged. What he wanted to do. How he wanted to do it. And as his mind whirred with the possibilities, one oh so tantalizing idea came to mind.

Frederick tore his lips free, loving how she followed him like a hungry puppy.

"Wh—"

"You followed me in here," he growled, stroking her face and looking into her eyes. "And we both know why."

Her eyes flashed. "Even though you told me not to."

"I should kick you out of my house for such behavior," he said with a vicious smile.

"Is that…" She swallowed. "Is that the best you can think of?"

He grinned. "I know how to treat women like you."

"I would like to see you try."

He chuckled, stroked her face, and then moved his hand down her neck. Pausing, his hand gently wrapped around her throat, only to continue down, cupping her breast. She breathed in as he squeezed it; eyes shut, she then moaned, taking his hand and squeezing it harder.

"Come here," he commanded suddenly, taking her hand and leading her to the couch.

"What are you?—"

"I did not say you could talk." He pulled her around and guided her to the couch. "Sit. Now."

He could see the realization dawn and the excitement in her eyes, as if she knew what he was going to do. Only he very much doubted that, for she was a lady, and this here was certainly the first time she had ever been tempted with such a thing.

Frederick stood over her, bearing down on her in a way that gave him utter and complete control over her. She was helpless to him, leaning back and looking up, seeming to know that he could do with her whatever he wanted. But she liked it; he could see that fire in her eyes and that smile on her lips.

"Do not move…"

He fell to his knees, shuffled forward, and put himself between her legs. She gasped as he took her thighs with both his hands, spreading them open. Next, he held the hem of her skirt, meeting her eyes and holding them, so she could see the hunger as he slowly lifted the skirt up her calves, over her knees, and up her thighs.

"Remember," he said, his voice a throaty whisper, "there are people outside, so you best not make a sound."

"And if I do?"

He flashed his eyes angrily. "You will not want to find out."

Her eyes widened as she now seemed to understand what he was doing. And then, unable to resist for any longer, not wanting to, Frederick lowered his head and dove between her moist, warm, thighs.

"Oh… God!" she gasped.

His tongue met her lips, tasting her with a soft kiss and a lick, just enough to make her body begin to shake. Another lick, wet, harder, all the way from the bottom of her lips to the top. She took a hold of his head, if for no other reason than to keep herself from collapsing, and he chuckled to himself, pulled back to wet his lips, and dove back in.

His mouth wrapped around her next, latching on as he started to suck. He found her sex, his lips working to the rhythm of her breathing and panting and moaning. Softly at first, increasing his speed as he felt her entire body spasm.

"Your Grace… Your… Your… Oh God!" she cried out, falling back on the sofa as she gave herself to him fully.

This was so unlike Frederick. Everything about this situation!

Seducing a woman like this. Giving himself over to temptation. Abandoning protocol and social etiquette and what was expected because he simply could not control himself around her. The danger inherent did not scare him. The fear of getting caught only excited him. Miss Dowding had brought out a side of him he did not know but very much enjoyed.

And going down on her, also, for no other reason than he wanted to taste her. He did not care about his own pleasure as this right here was pleasure enough. Hearing her scream. Feeling her spasm. Tasting her and relishing it was an entirely new sensation that aroused him more than he had ever been before.

He held her by the thighs as he continued to lick and suck. He pressed his face in as far as he could, devouring her in ways that were unthinkable. Her thighs squeezed his face, suffocating him, yet still he did not pull away. He did not want to!

"There…" she begged him. "Do not… oh please, do not… keep going… oh!"

Suddenly, Frederick pulled away. She gasped as he did, her breathing stagnated and broken as if she had just run a mile.

"What are you?—"

"Oh, I am sorry…" He chuckled. "Were you enjoy that."

"You… you monster!"

"You have no idea…" He licked his lips as he stared deeply into her eyes. Her body began to quiver as his fingers traced lightly up her thighs. She gasped as he touched her sex… stroking it as gently as he could. "Would you like more?"

"Please…"

"Tell me what you want."

"I want more, Your Grace. Please… give me more…" Her voice trembled as he continued to stroke her wetness.

"As you wish." And again, he dove between her thighs.

Her body twisted and turned. Her thighs shook. The build inside of her, he could feel it coming: an explosion that he wanted nearly as much as she did. Tongue licking. Lips sucking. She dripped down his chin, filled his mouth, tasted even sweeter than he could believe was possible.

"Yes…" she panted. "There… please… please… keep going…"

She was on the brink, the edge, about to erupt for the way her body shuddered and shook about his head. She throbbed in his mouth, pulsating as his tongue continued to work. All he had to do was keep on going…

"That is enough." Frederick pulled back again.

"No!" she sat back up, looking at him pleadingly. "You can't!"

He chuckled coldly. "I told you that I would punish you, did I not."

"But… but…"

"What?" He looked at her quizzically. "Did you think this was going to be all pleasure? After what you did, do you think that you deserve it?"

Her body was coated in sweat. Her chest heaved and dropped as she tried to catch her breathing. Hair messy. Face exasperated. Confused. All she had to do was ask for more, to beg for it, to give him no choice but to finish…

"You're… you're right," she said, taking a deep breath as she tried to calm, as she seemed to realize what this was and how to play this game. "I don't deserve it."

He could not help but smile. "Ah, somebody is learning. Very good."

"After what I did, I…" She bit into her lip, the fight evident on her face. "I am sorry. But maybe…" Her expression turned pleading. "… if I… if I am good, and I… and I do as you please?"

"Maybe," he said with a shrug. "But we will cross that bridge when it comes. If it comes."

Her legs were open before him. Her chest glistened from sweat. Chest still heaving. Cheeks flushed red. Lips wet and moist and so tempting. The self-control it took for Frederick not to take her then and there as he so very much wanted to was unbelievable. Yet somehow, he pushed himself back and stood.

The time would come. He might tell himself it would not. He might convince himself that this was as far as he would err, but… well, one look at Miss Dowding, and he knew that to be false.

"Good evening, Miss Dowding. Perhaps I will see you tomorrow." He turned and started to walk away, leaving her there wanting.

"I hope not," she called after him. "I hope I never see you again."

He did not rise to the bait but smiled as he stepped outside and closed the door behind him.

Was this dangerous? Was it a bad idea? Was this the very last thing that Frederick should have done? Yes to all. But did Frederick care? Not even a little bit.