Chapter Eighteen
Elizabeth Fry marched back and forth in front of the fire, her skirts swishing dangerously close to the flames with each pivot. “But don’t you see? After his latest attack, you must debate Lord Hanford. It’s the only way.”
Perching on the edge of her seat, Amanda prepared to stomp on the woman’s skirts should they burst into flame. Really, the reformer was exhausting just to watch. A raging bundle of energy trapped in a diminutive frame. Resisting her entreaties was increasingly tiresome.
“You read his letter in the paper,” Amanda said. “You know the reason that isn’t possible.” Amanda had been repeating the same thing ever since Mrs. Fry and Miss Shaw had pounded on her front door. Resigned to the confrontation, Amanda had led the women to the morning room and attempted to state her case.
The women didn’t listen to reason. They were like Reggie when he got a good grip on his rope. Determined to hold onto their idea at any cost.
Lady Mary glided into the room, two footmen behind her. “I heard we had guests, dear, and thought they might want a spot of tea.”
Amanda smiled at the woman gratefully. Mrs. Fry might be a persuasive and forceful speaker, but no one could talk in circles like her companion. “Thank you, My Lady. This is Mrs. Fry and Miss Shaw. They’re members of the Ladies’ Society for Prison Reform. And this is the Lady Mary Cavindish.”
Lady Mary clapped her small hands together. “How exciting. I’ve heard of your ministry in Newgate Prison, Mrs. Fry. It’s all quite noble.” She sat on the edge of a settee. Reggie trotted into the room and went right to the older woman’s side, waiting for his treat. Lady Mary pulled something from her sleeve and tossed it into his open mouth. “Amanda, did you never see Mrs. Fry while you were there?”
Heat clawed up Amanda’s cheeks. Yes, everyone knew she’d been a resident in that hellhole, but it wasn’t something that was discussed in polite society. She glared at her chaperone. Amanda had needed the dotty woman who left everyone around her in a muddle. Not the interested, intelligent one. Plus, the woman had stolen her dog. Well, her sister’s dog, but still.
“No,” she gritted out between clenched teeth. “I never saw her there.”
“I didn’t start my ministry until after your incarceration.” Mrs. Fry poked around a tray a footman had settled on the table. She came up with a scone studded with cranberries. “Horrid place. I’m not quite sure how you stood it.”
Amanda hadn’t had a choice. It was amazing what a person could stand when she had to.
She would have thought Julius’s rejection of her last night would have been more than she could bear. It had carved out her heart, left her hollow inside. But after the initial pain, all she’d felt was numb. This morning she’d dressed herself, read the papers, played with Reggie, all without feeling a thing. She’d survive, because there was no other choice.
But she didn’t know how to face Julius again. She and her chaperone didn’t really need a male presence for security. There were the servants, after all. Perhaps Julius would understand and return to his own home.
Leaving her bed just as empty as her heart.
Miss Shaw leaned forward. “What was it like? Being in Newgate?”
Amanda poured herself some tea, ignoring the tremble in her hand. A drop of the hot liquid splashed onto the fingers holding the cup, and she pressed them into her skirts. “About what you’d expect.” She sipped the tea, not minding the burn along her throat. She’d been cold for all those months. She could never complain over scalding tea.
“But what did you do with yourself?” Miss Shaw nibbled on a sweetmeat, her eyes wide. “Were the guards—”
“I would think if you are so curious, Mrs. Fry could take you along for her ministries.” Lady Mary tapped her fingers on the rim of her teacup. “No need for you to only imagine it. Or ask Amanda.”
The woman’s shoulders sagged. “Elizabeth won’t take me.”
“For your own good.” Mrs. Fry broke open her second scone. “You wouldn’t last two seconds,” she said around her mouthful. She swallowed and turned to Amanda. “Now, since you do understand the horrors of that prison, how can you refuse to try to change it? Prison reform is needed now. We don’t have time to wait for you to get comfortable.”
“You have ambitions beyond eliminating capital punishment.” Lady Mary pulled out another treat. She pointed to the floor, and Reggie slid to his belly. As soon as the morsel was in his mouth, he popped back up to his haunches.
Mrs. Fry nodded. “Capital punishment is just the first step. Every reasonable person should understand the injustice of executing children and adults for petty crimes. But so much more needs to be done.”
“Then you debate Lord Hanford!” Amanda stood. “You have the passion and the knowledge of the subject. Why come to me?”
“Hanford has already engaged with you.” Mrs. Fry flattened her lips. “He’s responded to you when he never has to me. I think it is because of your unique position. Someone who was nearly executed by mistake, without the benefit of a fair trial. And the sister of a duchess. That gives you leverage. A voice most people do not have. You need to use it.”
Pounding her fist into her thigh, Amanda spun away from the women. It all sounded so easy coming from Mrs. Fry’s mouth. But the reformer was confident. She couldn’t understand the way Amanda’s throat closed up just thinking about facing a crowd.
Lady Mary tried to be the voice of reason. “Perhaps we should look into a way to make Hanford take notice of you, Mrs. Fry. If you co-wrote a piece with Amanda, that would bring you to the marquess’s attention.”
“Miss Wilcox is the one with the notoriety,” Mrs. Fry insisted. “All the letters to the editor are directed to her. She is the obvious choice.”
“Well, I have every confidence that Amanda will do what she feels is right.” Lady Mary stirred a lump of sugar into her tea with a decided manner. Her spoon clinked heavily against the china, and each strike of the teacup felt like a blow to Amanda’s body. Everyone thought she could be stronger than she was. Had faith in her. And she was going to let them all down.
The walls that had always felt so safe loomed close. Amanda’s stomach heaved, and she clenched her hands together. For so long, safety had been her goal. Going to bed without fear had been a luxury, one she wouldn’t take for granted. But safety was no longer enough. She wanted to be free.
Something tugged on her skirt. She looked down, and Reggie whined, pawing at her leg. He needed to go out.
She sucked down a large breath, forced her shoulders to unclench.
And she was going to be the one to take him.
Resolved, she turned to face her guests. “Reggie needs a walk. I’ll leave you with Lady Mary. Enjoy your afternoon, ladies.”
She strode from the room, tapping her thigh. “Come, Reggie.” His nails clicked on the wood floor behind her. When she asked the footman to fetch his lead, Reggie spun in paroxysms of delight. Or confusion. He’d never seen Amanda with the lead before.
She attached it to his collar and faced the door the footman swung open.
The young man eyed her curiously and raised an insolent eyebrow as the seconds ticked by and she didn’t move. “Shall I take the dog for his walk?”
“I can do it.” Her voice wheezed through her throat, thin and thready.
“I don’t suppose you need an attendant.”
Amanda didn’t know if that was a question or a statement. Either way, she wouldn’t make it if a footman followed ten steps behind, watching her every stumbling step.
“I don’t suppose I do.” She took a step forwards. Another. Her forward momentum was made easier as Reggie tugged at the lead, eager for the out-of-doors. The slanting afternoon sun caught her across the face, and she squinted. The glare made it easier to step across the threshold. She didn’t see the barrier. But she felt the change in the air as soon as she crossed it.
Reggie yipped and strained for the steps down to the drive. The lead slid through her fingers, and she readjusted her grip, holding the loop firmly between her cold hands.
Three steps until she reached the top of the stairs. Reggie stared up at her from the bottom, prancing in a circle, encouraging her on. Two steps down, and she stood on the curb. If she broke her journey down into small segments, it would be possible. It would be roughly fifty paces until she reached the street. She could walk fifty paces.
Bringing her hands to her mouth, she blew on the stinging skin. She’d forgotten her gloves. And a coat. She looked over her shoulder at the open rectangle of the front door. The footman stood to the side, watching her like she was a monkey in a menagerie.
If she went back for her gloves, she wouldn’t come back out.
Setting her shoulders, she forced her feet forward. She counted each step, staring at the pavement in front of her. When she hit fifty, she started counting up from one again. Any number higher than fifty made her throat close and her lungs burn.
She reached the street at thirty-four paces, and shied back when a man hurried past. Reggie sniffed at a bush, squatting to pee, and Amanda let him take his time. She stared at the ground and tried to block the world out. She couldn’t look back at the house. If she saw the distance between herself and safety …
The sounds from the street were strangely deadened. All she heard clearly were the ragged breaths clawing in and out of her throat. She kept her elbows pressed tight to her sides and tried to take up as little room as possible on the sidewalk.
Reggie tugged her ahead and she stumbled, losing count of her first few steps. The sound of her heartbeat thrashed in her ears, blocking out even her pants. Her legs trembled, went soft, and she had to grab onto the fence next to her to stay upright.
Reggie danced around her, tangling the lead.
She couldn’t catch her breath. It was like she was wearing ten corsets at once, each one pulled tighter than the next. Little black spots swam in front of her eyes.
A hand landed on her shoulder, and she jumped. A man stood next to her, eyebrows lowered. His mouth moved, but Amanda didn’t hear him. She uncoiled the lead from around her feet and skittered away. She reached the corner and took a left.
She would start again at one. She quickened her pace so each count matched her heartbeat. One hand gripped Reggie’s lead so tightly the leather imprinted in her skin. The other opened and closed uselessly by her side.
She reached the next corner and whimpered. She was now as far from the house as her walk around the block would take her. She should take comfort. Each step would be bringing her closer to home.
Reggie tugged again, and she stumbled after him. Twenty-one, twenty-two …. Someone else bumped into her, and she lost count. She fisted her left hand, digging her nails into her palm. Start over. One, two …. Tears scalded her eyes. It was no use. Her whole body shook. In a lifetime of reckless decisions, this one had topped them all. She swayed to a stop, her head spinning.
She wasn’t going to make it back home. Blinking, she tried to fight back the encroaching darkness, but she was losing this battle like all the others.
A tear rolled down her cheek. Why was she so weak? She’d thought she’d found some confidence these past weeks, but it had only existed when Julius stood beside her.
As though wishing made it happen, a warm hand slid around hers and squeezed.
Amanda looked to her side and tried to bring Julius into focus. The instant his fingers had touched her, she’d known it was him. Warm. Strong. Comforting. Her shoulders sagged with relief. She’d make it home.
A slightly hysterical laugh burst from her lips. “I thought I could take Reggie for a walk.”
The skin around his eyes crinkled. He cupped her cheek and leaned close. “And you have. Now it’s time to go home.” Julius bundled her into his side. He unbuttoned his great coat and wrapped one flap of it around her body. With one side of her pressed against him and the other covered in the heavy coat, she quickly warmed up. His arm around her waist gave her strength. With a shuddering breath, she nodded and stepped forward.
Julius took the lead from her hand and matched her pace. His breath blew hot against her cheek. “When I arrived at Marcus’s and the footman told me you were out, I almost had a fit. I’m going to throttle the man for not accompanying you.”
“I didn’t want him to.” Although had she fainted, it would have been nice to have someone to carry her home.
Julius brushed his lips over her brow. “I’m so proud of you for facing your fears.”
She’d been a terrified puddle of mush, about to collapse on a public street. She didn’t see how that qualified her for accolade. But her voice was still too unsteady to argue.
“I need to apologize for what I said last night. Having ropes on me again …” He shook his head. “I didn’t handle it as well as I’d hoped. And I took my wretchedness out at you, which was unforgivable.” Stopping at the corner, he tilted her chin up with his finger. “But I hope you’ll forgive me, just the same.”
The sincerity in his eyes slayed her. She looked away and wrestled with her expectations. Nothing had changed. He was the same man he’d always been: kind, decent, and temporary.
The pedestrians walking past gave them shocked looks. Snuggled up against a man, sharing his coat on a public street, was positively indecent. If anyone recognized Julius, his reputation would suffer.
She pushed against his chest and stepped back. “I wasn’t trying to trap you into a commitment.”
He pulled her back close. “I know. You had no expectations.” He pinched his lips. “In fact, if ever a woman presumed too little, it is you.” Shaking his head, he pressed her hand to his chest. “But we can discuss that later. I need to know if you forgive me?”
A woman strode by, bumping Amanda’s shoulder. “Disgusting,” she hissed.
Amanda shifted. “Julius, we’re standing too close. People are judging us.”
“I don’t care about their opinions.” Resting his forehead on hers, he sighed. “I care about yours.”
Amanda closed her eyes and gave into the pain she knew was to come. She would take whatever scraps of attention Julius would give to her, for as long as he was interested. And then he would leave. Leave her to become the spinster aunt to Liz’s children. Leave her and take on other lovers, ones he could escort to balls and the theatre. Leave her to ache in the half-life she would have without him.
He was a good man. He’d want to see her happy and healthy before he moved on. And that would be her gift to him. She’d present him with someone strong. Someone who didn’t need Julius’s arms wrapped around her in order to fall asleep. Someone who didn’t have a fit of the vapors stepping out of doors. She would show him a woman who was happy, so he could leave with no regrets.
“Of course, I forgive you.” She knew better than anyone how close together fear and anger lie in the human heart. She’d jumped, heart racing, whenever her father had entered a room. It had taken less than a second for the terror to transform into a blinding rage when her father had implied he’d turn his attentions to Elizabeth. That rage had taken her senses. It had given her the strength to overcome a man twice her size and drive a steak knife deep between his ribs.
It had left her stone-faced as she’d watched the man who’d raised her gasp for life, only to drown in his own blood.
Julius saying a few harsh words couldn’t compare. His not loving her enough was merely a fact of life. Nothing that needed forgiveness.
She tugged at the sides of his coat. “Now, can we get back home? I think I’ve used up my daily allotment of courage.”
They hurried down the street, pausing only to let Reggie sniff another dog. When they reached their drive, Julius slid the hand at her waist around to her stomach. “Will you wait for me in my room?”
Amanda turned at the foot of the porch. Did he truly think she would deny herself the pleasure of his bed? That her forgiveness had a limit? “Of course.”
Nodding, he bustled her up the steps and knocked on the front door. He tossed his hat to the footman who opened it. “I’ll take Reggie down to the kitchen for his dinner,” Julius said. He nodded his chin towards the stairs, and Amanda took that as her cue to make for his room.
She took the steps two at a time. Out of breath, she held her hand to her side and made her way down the hall at a more dignified pace.
The evening fire had already been laid in Julius’s room. Amanda kicked off her slippers and sat on the edge of the chair in front of it, rubbing her hands together before the flames.
Julius pushed through the door, holding a tray in his hands, and kicked it shut. He set the tray on the low table next to her. “I got our dinners, as well as the dog’s.” Shucking his coat, he sank into the chair next to her. He stretched his legs out and sighed.
Amanda fixed a small plate and handed it to Julius. “You seem happy.”
“I will concede content.” He turned his head to look at her. “It is a great burden off my mind to know you forgive me.”
Amanda nibbled on a bit of beef pie. “I, too, am glad we’re no longer in a quarrel.”
Julius slid his cravat off and unbuttoned his vest, getting comfortable. The white silk shirt beneath clung to his chest, and Amanda tried not to stare. He dove into his meal. A bit of sauce pooled at the corner of his mouth. He wiped it away, and stuck the tip of his thumb in his mouth, sucking it off.
The tips of her breasts tingled with heat. Her body remembered how good his mouth felt. She undid the top two buttons at her neck and gulped down some wine. The chairs were positioned too close to the fire.
Julius narrowed his gaze on her throat. Setting his plate down on the table, he asked, “Hot?”
She nodded.
“There’s a solution to that.” Crossing one leg over the other, Julius rested his elbow on the armrest, and his chin on his fist. “Stand up.”
She stood.
“Take off your dress. Slowly.” Julius swirled the wine around in his glass and took a sip, his gaze never leaving hers.
Wanting to tear the heavy cotton from her body, Amanda forced herself to ease the buttons through their holes. When she reached the waist of her gown, she shrugged the sleeves off her shoulders. The material fell to her waist, and she pushed the dress over her hips and to the floor. She plucked it from the ground and began to fold it.
Julius took it from her hands. “Later.” He tossed the garment over his shoulder and sat up. “With the firelight behind you, I can see every line of your body beneath your shift.”
Amanda twisted, trying to see what he did.
He growled. “I can see how hard your nipples are for me. Hard and tight and begging for my mouth.” Grabbing a fistful of the skirt of her chemise, he pulled her between his legs. He rubbed his thumbs over the tips of her breasts. “Your skin must be so sensitive right now. Is your shift scraping against your skin? Driving you crazy?”
Her chest rose and fell beneath his hands. “Yes.”
He slid his hands down her sides and tugged her closer. Close enough that when he stretched his neck, he could take one of her hard peaks in his mouth.
She fisted the shoulders of his shirt. Arching her back, she tried to press more of her flesh into his hot mouth. The first pull sent a bolt of desire straight to her core. “Julius,” she moaned.
“Shhh.” He blew against the wet fabric, and her knees buckled. Only his hands kept her upright. He moved to her other breast, lavishing the same attention on it.
Dazed, she glanced down. The thin cotton had become translucent where his tongue had laved. Her nipple stood dark and erect beneath the clinging shift.
Setting her back a step, Julius cupped her breasts. Then he grabbed the neck of the chemise and tore it down the middle.
Amanda gaped at him.
“Get on the bed.” Julius toed off his boots. He tugged the ruined garment from her body and then smacked her lightly on the bottom to get her moving.
She scampered to the four-poster. Her skin felt tight, itchy, as though it didn’t quite stretch properly around her frame. Running her palms down her thighs, she sucked in a deep breath and devoured Julius with her eyes. He removed his clothes with a ruthless efficiency, his shirt tearing at the shoulder when he ripped it over his head. Every inch of skin he exposed made Amanda ache. She loved the feel of his body pressed against hers, slick with sweat, hot from exertion. She clenched the coverlet.
She wanted to feel every inch of him.
He prowled towards her, his eyelids at half-mast. He raised a knee on the bed, and she pressed her hand against his chest to stop him. She held her breath. The last time she’d expressed this desire, things had gone very wrong. “Julius, I want …”
“Tell me.”
She dug her fingers into the dusting of dark hair across his chest. “You said you’d go without the linen if we … you know.” How did people normally talk of this? Did people talk about it, or did men just take what they wanted without the conversation? She wished she could be more direct, but her upbringing didn’t allow the words to pass her lips. She was sure she wasn’t alone. And if it wasn’t talked about, and men dove right in, there must be a lot of confused women in England.
His eyes glittered darkly. “Are you offering me your arse tonight, Amanda?”
Cheeks burning, she nodded. Perhaps directness was overrated. A euphemism never hurt anyone.
He skimmed his palm from her hip to her breast. “Are you certain? Because I would love nothing more than to feel you wrapped around me, skin to skin. To empty myself deep within you.”
She dug her nails into him and shuddered. “Yes,” she whispered.
He took her lips, his kiss gentle, slow. His tongue found hers and met it stroke for stroke. He placed one hand at her nape and one hand on her bum, and pulled her into his body. His cock pressed against her belly, heat rolling off of it in waves. The kiss turned feral. He nipped at her tongue and swallowed her moans down as though he needed them to survive. The tips of his fingers dug into her bottom, and each point of pressure sent a twinge of desire to her core.
She gripped his hip and tried to keep up. Each plunge of his tongue was demanding, possessive. His heartbeat pounded against her chest, and excitement slid through her veins.
She might not mean forever to him, but in that moment, he wanted her as badly as she wanted him.
Reaching between them, she took hold of his length and stroked. The hand at the nape of her neck tightened. Pushing his chest into hers, Julius eased her back until she was lying on the bed.
He pulled his mouth from hers, breathing heavy. “Roll over. On your hands and knees.” He arranged a pillow under her and pushed her down so her belly rested on it, her knees spread. Placing a hot open-mouthed kiss on each vertebrae of her spine, Julius slid down her body. “Don’t move,” he told her when he reached the base.
Amanda hugged the top of the pillow and waited for his return. Turning her head, she tried to follow his movements but only heard rustling behind her. The mattress sagged under his weight, and he crawled beside her.
Hemp scraped across the delicate skin on the inside of her elbow. The slight abrasion sent a shiver down her back. Tapping her hip, he urged her up an inch, far enough for him to slide the rope around her knee. He pulled the end tight, and Amanda’s elbow and knee were tugged together.
She rolled her shoulder, settling into the feeling of her unusual freedom.
Julius kissed her back. “All right?”
“Yes.” Already she felt coddled. Protected. Cool air licked between her folds, and her ache turned into throbbing need.
Binding her other arm and leg together, Julius ran a finger between the ropes and her skin. The cables were snug, but not tight. They did their job, keeping her immobile, and unaccountable. She could raise her head but nothing more.
“Have I told you how beautiful your skin looks against the purple hemp?” Julius asked. “Like I’ve captured my very own queen.” He trailed his fingers along the rope, from her elbows to her knees, and Amanda felt every faint vibration deep in her bones. He traced at the seam where cable met skin, around her thigh and up to the crease where her sex met her leg. He teased at her lower lips.
Amanda lifted her hips as far as the ropes allowed, trying to get him to touch her in the right place. He chuckled and kept his finger feather-light. “Julius,” she said, a note of warning in her voice.
“Why do you think I love tying you up, Amanda?” He grazed his fingers over her clit, so gently it felt like the kiss of butterfly wings dancing over her skin. “You look beautiful, yes. But when I have you secured as I want, you’re defenseless against me. I can torment you, toy with you as much as I want, with you unable to stop me. You’re completely open to me.”
He circled the tip of one finger at her opening, and she whimpered. She wanted to sink down on him so badly, force the contact.
“So damn wet.” He spread her slickness down her folds, and circled her nub. “But let’s get you a little bit wetter.”
Oil trickled over her lower back, rolling down her bottom. Julius smoothed his hands across her skin, rubbing the slickness in. He skimmed around her upper thigh and scissored his fingers around her clit with his left hand. Laying his right hand on her lower back, Julius slid his thumb between her cheeks and circled her opening.
The twin sensations made her shudder. She rocked her hips back and forth, settling into his rhythm. The pressure on her nub increased and waves of pleasure built, one on top of the other until she was about to break.
Julius removed his hand.
More oil drizzled across her back. Julius rubbed her thighs and calves and worked his way up to knead her bottom. Her muscles slowly released, and she sagged against her bonds.
He slid his left hand down between her thighs and flicked her clit. His thumb danced around her back entrance, never penetrating, only succeeding in making her body scream to be filled.
Julius eased his right thumb between her cheeks. He slicked the oil around the ring of muscles, over and over, and all of her nerve endings sparked. For a feeling that had started out so strange when Julius first touched her there, the sensation was quickly becoming one of her favorites. She climbed towards the crest of her wave, panting with need, and Julius dropped his left hand. Again.
She almost cried. “Why?”
He didn’t pretend to misunderstand. He also hadn’t stopped circling her back ring with his thumb. “When I press into you, I want you so desperate for relief that you’ll beg me to take you, any which way.” The tip of his thumb pushed past her muscles, and she tensed. He flicked a finger against her nub. “I know why you like being bound. Once you’re in my hands, at my mercy, you know there’s no use fighting. You don’t have to worry whether something is right or proper. Sensible or wanton. It just is. So, relax into my touch, and accept.”
The taps against her nub quickened in pace. Sweat rolled from her hairline down into the coverlet. Amanda’s whole body felt as though it were shaking apart. Only the ropes held her together. She was so close, but she'd never felt so empty. Her core clenched at nothing, weeping with frustration.
“Julius, please.” She wasn’t above begging. Not if it would get her relief.
His finger slid inside her, oil making the passage easy. A second finger joined it, and Julius slickened her inside and out.
He slowed the finger at her clit, and Amanda used the coverlet to muffle her scream. Julius pulled his fingers from her opening. Just as slowly, he pushed back in, but this time the intrusion was much larger.
“Easy,” Julius murmured. He reached around her hip and stroked her clit again. “Just relax. Don’t fight it.”
Amanda bit the inside of her cheek. It burned. And not in the pleasant way like when Julius dragged the rope across her skin or when the ginger oil met her sensitive flesh.
Thank God he hadn’t used that oil tonight.
Just as slowly, Julius pulled out until only the tip of his cock remained lodged inside her. Only to start the process again.
She writhed in pleasure from his finger at her clit, even as she shied from his invasion.
The next stroke Julius burrowed deep, and she felt so full she thought she might burst. When he bottomed out, she couldn’t help the squeak of distress that escaped her lips.
He dug his fingers into the flesh at her hip. “Relax, my sweet. Trust me. This will feel good.”
He retreated. He pressed in. Each time she tried to keep from crying out. Did this feel good to Julius? Because it certainly wasn’t doing anything for her. It was too much. He was too big.
But he’d asked her to trust him. The bindings at her elbows and knees kept her secure. For that alone she was thankful. And she’d received her wish. She could feel every excruciating inch of him. His cock was hot and slick and so smooth it felt like he was covered in satin instead of that horrid linen. She tried to imagine him in her other channel, how good his bare length would feel there.
Anything to keep her mind off the fact that she was being torn in two.
Buried deep inside of her, Julius paused. He kept his hips still and circled her clit. It helped, but she couldn’t ignore the pain.
So, she focused on the good. The tingles bubbling to life with each pass of his fingers. How close she felt to Julius in that moment. There was nothing between them. All their cards had been laid out. She knew where she stood with him, what she could expect. And he understood her better than anyone. Cared for her, in his own way, more than anyone else ever had, barring her sister.
So, if this one act—she ground her teeth together as he started to move again—if this one act gave him pleasure, she’d bear through it. She was accustomed to suffering in silence. She could do it again, now, for this man.
He pulled out, and she reveled in the reprieve. It was temporary. He’d be driving back in, steady and relentless. But the absence of pressure became its own pleasure.
He groaned as he slid back in. Amanda tensed her shoulders, waiting for the burn. It came, but more muted than before. A small tingle slipped into the place of that missing pain.
On the next slow plunge, the tingle dominated. Nerve endings she hadn’t even known existed flared with pleasure.
She tried to wiggle into it, to chase the feeling deeper. Her bindings wouldn’t allow it, so she sagged into the bed. Her only obligation at the moment was to feel. She didn’t have to worry about anything more.
Julius moved both hands to her hips, controlling her movements completely. She’d allowed this man to wrap her up like a bow, and each slow stroke unraveled her piece by piece.
The last bit of tension seeped from her body. She gave up the final illusion of control. When he bottomed out again, she couldn’t contain the small cry of pleasure.
***
Amanda wasn’t enjoying this. A bead of sweat gathered at Julius’s temple and trickled to his jaw. It landed on her upturned rump.
Julius bit back a groan. By the gods, her arse was magnificent. Pert, with padding in just the right places. And bound as she was, it was offered up perfectly for his fucking pleasure.
He’d dreamed of tupping this arse. And now he was there, sliding through the tight, erotic channel. He almost cried like a babe at the exquisite pleasure. His body screamed at him to pound into her, find its release.
But she wasn’t enjoying it.
So, he kept the pace slow, gentle, knowing he could do damage to her sensitive flesh. The turtle’s pace was killing him, but not as much as the tight bunching of her shoulders, her tiny mewls of distress.
If he didn’t care for her so damn much, those little squeaks would be cute. As it was, he didn’t know how much more he could take. He knew women could enjoy this act with some training, but Amanda had already had so much pain in her life. He couldn’t take being the cause of more of it.
Burrowing his fingers into the soft skin at her hips, he grunted and pulled out until only his crown remained snug in her arse. He would stop.
He eased back in, and fire raced along his cock. Right after this stroke, he would pull out. His balls pressed against her arse, and a small sound from Amanda caused his head to snap up. That hadn’t sounded like pain.
Slowly, too slowly for his demanding cock, he withdrew to his tip then slid his way back into heaven. He watched Amanda’s reactions all the while.
And there it was. That moment when a woman’s whimper of distress transformed into a moan of pleasure. The best fucking moment in the world.
A little faster, he retreated and plunged. Her body went completely limp and a throaty little groan escaped those pink lips.
Halle-fucking-lulah. She was there with him. He trembled in relief. He didn’t have to stop. His shoulders tensed, and the need to piston his way to oblivion almost overwhelmed him. But he could still hurt her, tear her delicate skin, so he clamped down on his control.
Julius focused his gaze on the pucker where his cock disappeared into her body. The sight alone almost made him come. Her creamy skin was flushed pink and looking as dewy as a rose in the morning’s mist. He ran his fingers around the ropes, making sure her skin wasn’t pinched. The tips of his fingers scraped along the hemp and then were soothed by the silky softness of her skin. Grabbing the cables at her knees, he jerked her onto his cock.
They moaned together.
Dropping his head back, he stared at the canopy, his eyes glazing over. Nothing had ever felt so good. And no one had ever submitted so sweetly to his ropes. After all that Amanda had borne, the fact that she trusted him with her body, with her pleasure, would have brought him to his knees if he hadn’t already been there.
He pulled out to his head and looked back to where they joined. His cock was dark purple and thick with veins, and he knew he wouldn’t last long. He pounded harder, and his balls knocked against her lower lips.
She mewled and dug her fingers into the counterpane. Tension gathered between her shoulder blades, but Julius knew this time it was from anticipation. Each slap of skin on skin dragged a whimper from her mouth. She strained against the rope, trying to match his pace.
“Don’t fight it.” The words were strained, and he forced them out of his parched throat. “I’ll get you there. Don’t worry.” Bending, he kissed the nape of her neck, tasting the salty sweetness of her skin.
His thrusts became jerky, his body past control. Instinct took over, and he drove into her, over and over. One hand at her shoulder and one at her hip, he took and gave in equal measure.
Amanda’s arse twitched around his cock. Her skin flushed and heat rolled off of her. Her crisis was nearing, but he needed her to get there now. He was so close and couldn’t leave her behind. He slipped his hand around her hip and circled the spot she needed.
She arched her back and the ropes snapped taut. “Julius,” she pleaded. “Don’t stop. Please God, don’t stop.”
His throat tightened along with the rest of his muscles and he couldn’t reassure her. Words were beyond him. But there was no way in hell he would stop. His balls pulled close to his body. A tingle started low at the base of his spine, and he resisted the spiral towards oblivion.
He tried to loosen his grip at her shoulder, knowing his fingers bit into her skin, but his hand wasn’t obeying his mind. He yanked her into his thrusting hips, shaking with denied need.
His finger faltered at her nub, the circular motion too complex for a brain that had gone black. He pinched down, hard, and prayed.
Amanda opened her mouth on a silent scream. Her whole body convulsed. The muscles surrounding him clamped down, and Julius could hold out no more.
A sound he didn’t recognize tore from his throat, something primitive, elemental. Her arse gripped him so tightly he couldn’t thrust through his orgasm. Could only rock into her channel. Pulse after pulse of his seed was ripped from his cock until he thought he’d never be able to come again. With one last twitch, he collapsed over her, completely spent.
Their chests rose and fell as one. The skin of her back was hot and damp against his stomach and chest. He buried his nose in her hair and let the scent of her heat and lavender soap flood his senses.
“Are we still alive?” Amanda asked, a shaky laugh in her voice.
Julius didn’t know and didn’t care. As long as he was with her, he was happy.
His muscles felt like dough, and there were other parts of him he didn’t feel at all. But rope still bound Amanda, so he forced himself up. With one hand on her lower back and the other gripping the base of his cock, he eased from her channel.
Her arsehole winked at him, his come slipping from the opening and rolling down to her cunny. The sight was almost enough to make him hard again.
Untying his ropes, he stretched Amanda out, making sure her skin pinked, rubbing away any soreness. He went to the pitcher of water on his nightstand, wet a rag, and cleaned them both. She was boneless beneath his hands, her eyes closed to narrow slits.
“I love your hands on me.” Her words were slurred with fatigue. “And I loved feeling you release inside of me.”
Was that all she loved? Julius pulled the coverlet over her and tugged her into his side. He held her tight, knowing that made it easier for her to drift off.
He watched as her breathing evened out, as her head fell to the side. He watched her until the fire sputtered in its grate and burned out.
Something had changed between them, and life had just become complicated. He knew this, but his mind was blank when it came to what needed to be done about it.
Marriage was the obvious solution. Sweat beaded on his forehead. Being bound to one woman, even one as wonderful as Amanda, wasn’t something he could bear. And children he would need to protect from harm? There was a war going on with those upstart Americans. Two wars really, if one considered that the cessation of hostilities with France was likely to end at any moment. How was a man supposed to ensure his family’s safety in wartime?
His own father hadn’t been able to save Julius. Not with all his money or his diplomatic connections. Julius had been left to rot. His pulse raced, and Julius tried to rein in his anger.
And it was anger. He’d never realized how much he’d blamed his father for not rescuing him. His friends had traveled to Japan, risking their lives and readying to break him free from his prison while his father had sat behind his desk and written letters.
Julius knew his father had loved him. The man must have been desperate. But the idea of leaving England to go search for his son wouldn’t have crossed his mind. By the time Julius had returned, his father was too sick to confront.
Sleep tugged at his eyelids, making them heavy. In a minute, he’d get up and go to the library to catch a couple hours sleep on the settee. In a minute, the feel of Amanda’s arms wrapping around him would make his skin itch. But he wanted a few more moments of holding her.
His last thought before drifting to sleep was that if he ever did have children, there would be no land too far that he wouldn’t travel to save them.