Chapter 9
“The doctor said this morning I might start having some red meat in my diet.” Titus gazed down at the bowl of soup sitting on the tray Pru had placed in front of him as he sat in a chair beside the window.
“That is a beef broth,” Pru dismissed as she tidied the blanket about his legs.
His eyes narrowed. “A thin liquid that has been strained of anything resembling meat and vegetables is not the same as a nice juicy piece of beef to get my teeth into.”
“You are not well enough to get your teeth into a juicy piece of beef—”
“The doctor said—”
“I was present during the doctor’s visit, Titus.” She straightened to eye him reprovingly. “What he actually said was you might slowly start to return to some of your usual activities, such as—”
“One of which is the eating red meat!”
“Such as,” she continued firmly, “getting out of bed—which you have now done.” She indicated his seat in front of the window. “And dressing.” She nodded to where he wore a silk robe over his nightshirt. “Your valet was in here earlier seeing to your wash and shave prior to Stonewell’s usual morning visit.” Edgars, Titus’s valet, had duly arrived on the Duke of Stonewell’s instruction several days ago, along with a portmanteau of the viscount’s clothes and belongings he would need for his stay here.
Pru had to admit the valet had become extremely helpful with Titus’s care, taking over the vigil in the bedchamber whenever Pru needed to sleep or bathe and change her clothes.
Titus stared at Pru in frustration. He didn’t give a damn about his appearance when it felt as if he was being starved to death these past four days of being confined to his bed. Well…not his bed, but a bed in one of the guest bedchambers at Germaine House.
Quite how Pru had managed that in the face of what he knew had been strong opposition from Stonewell and several of the other Sinners, he did not care to think. Stonewell had muttered something about “immovable objects” when Titus questioned him on the subject.
Even with his own valet in residence, Titus knew he should not be alone here with Pru. It simply was not done for a gentleman to be in the home of a single lady for this amount of time, even if that gentleman was incapacitated.
And yet here he was, a virtual prisoner to Pru’s ministrations and strict adherence to “five minutes only” whenever one of The Sinners dared to visit him here.
He leaned back in the chair. “You are taking your duties as my nurse far too seriously, Pru.”
“Too seriously?” she echoed, two bright spots of indignant color appearing in her cheeks. “You almost died four days ago. Parker did die,” she added emotionally.
“And for that, I am most sorry.” Titus nodded. “But your parents will be arriving home soon, and they are going to be far from happy at finding me here,” he predicted.
“Nonsense,” Pru dismissed. “They will be as grateful to you as I am for ensuring my safety to the detriment of your own. You were protecting me when the bullet struck you in the back,” she reminded him huskily.
Titus placed the tray of food on the table beside him. “Pru, you cannot dwell on things that might have been, only what is. Yes, I was shot,” he continued as she would have spoken. “But I am well on the mend now.”
She sniffed. “I beg to differ.”
He bit back the sharpness of his reply, knowing Pru was motivated by worry and fear rather than any true intention of dominating him. Because of what had happened to the Germaine butler. A death Titus deeply regretted, and which he knew had affected Pru greatly coming so quickly after the death of her beloved sister.
“Remove your drawers and come here to me,” he instructed as she now fussed with straightening the bedcovers.
Pru ceased what she was doing to give him a startled glance. “What?”
“Your reaction shows me you heard me the first time.”
“I do not think—”
“I am not requiring you to think, only to do as I ask,” Titus grated.
Her cheeks were flushed. “It sounded like an order—”
“If it had been an order, then I should now be getting to my feet with the intention of punishing you for your disobedience.”
Her throat moved as she swallowed. “The doctor said—”
“The doctor is not here, I am,” Titus stated firmly. “And I require that you remove your drawers this instant and then come here to me.”
“If this is some ridiculous attempt on your part to prove how recovered you are—”
“It is not to be an attempt but a determination to do so,” he assured her dryly. “I am still waiting, Pru.”
“I… No… Very well, I will do as you ask,” she hastily agreed as he threw off the blanket with the intention of rising to his feet and going to her. “You are as much a bully as ever, I see,” she accused.
“And you are as much a teasing witch,” he returned wryly.
Pru reached awkwardly beneath her gown to unfasten her drawers. “If anyone should come in…” She gave a self-conscious glance toward the closed door as she allowed her drawers to fall to the floor before stepping out of them.
Titus snorted. “No one would dare enter without your permission.”
She gave him a quizzical glance after placing her drawers on the bed. “I thought only of your health by limiting your visitors and the time each of them stayed.”
“And now my health is better, I can think only of the heat of your pussy.”
“Titus!” Her cheeks burned.
He arched a mocking brow. “Prudence?”
She walked toward him slowly, very aware of the brush of her gown against the bareness of her thighs and limbs. “Perhaps you are on the mend after all.” She gasped as Titus reached out to grasp her wrist to pull her forward until she lost her balance and straddled his thighs, her dress pushed up to her thighs, her hands lightly gripping his shoulders. “But I am not sure you are well enough for—for this.” She was totally flustered by the suddenness of Titus’s demands after his previous days of incapacity.
“My cock disagrees,” he assured her. “I doubt I am as yet up to experimenting with any of those pictures or positions you saw in your father’s books, but I have been lying abed for four days now, unable to do anything else but imagine all the things I wished to do to you as you moved about the bedchamber seeing to my needs. I should now like to do something for you.”
Her breath caught in her throat. “Such as…?”
“I should like to see and touch your pussy again.” He pushed her gown higher. “Like velvet,” he murmured his approval after his fingers had parted and revealed her moist folds to his avid gaze. “You are so wet for me.” His fingers dipped into that wetness as he caressed the length of her slit and then up to the tiny nubbin nestled amongst the blonde curls.
Pru felt the last of her self-consciousness leave her at the feel of those caressing fingers against her sensitive flesh. “Titus,” she gasped softly as that nubbin was stroked and squeezed until it was hard and throbbing.
“Tell me what you need, darling girl,” he encouraged gruffly.
“More.” She pressed her aching flesh against his caressing fingers. “I need more, Titus.” It had been sheer torture for her to care for his every need these past four days, including having one of the maids help her to wash his muscular and naked body, without being able to touch him in the ways she really wished to do.
“Ride my fingers.” Titus used his digits to pump her rigid little organ, his chest filling with pleasure as Pru gasped and groaned, her hands clinging tightly to his shoulders as she undulated backward and forward on his fingers. “Harder,” he encouraged as her breathing faltered. “Faster,” he instructed, feeling that organ become stiffer still as Pru began to quiver and shake with the force of her release.
She collapsed weakly against his shoulder, careful to choose his uninjured side even in her loss of control. “I believe I needed that after all,” she murmured self-derisively.
Titus lightly caressed her hair. “I believe you did too.”
“Would you like me to give you pleasure now?”
“God, yes,” he groaned.
Pru sat up to look at him. Titus had lost weight these past few days—no doubt he would say that was because he had been given no red meat to eat!—but otherwise, he seemed to have regained some of the color in his face today, and his arms felt strong about her waist. Still, she hesitated. “Are you sure you feel well enough?”
“My cock believes it does.” He pushed his robe and nightshirt aside to reveal its long and throbbing hardness.
Pru’s gaze was instantly captivated by the thick and heavy length rising from a nest of dark curls, the bulbous top slick with the release of his juices. A slickness she longed to taste again.
She moistened her lips in anticipation of that sweet and salty release as she slid down between his parted legs to kneel on the floor in front of him. “You will just sit there and let me do all the work.” She wrapped her fingers about the steely velvet length of his cock.
“I believe I might manage a thrust or two, if that is allowed?” he drawled.
“Now you are mocking me,” she admonished.
He touched her cheek gently. “If I am mocking anyone, it is myself,” he assured her huskily. “I am unable to walk more than a few feet without feeling tired, and yet my desire for you is undiminished. I must have your mouth on me, Pru,” he added ardently.
Pru was only too happy to oblige, slowly pumping the length of his cock as she took the bulbous head fully into her mouth and laved it with her tongue. She heard Titus’s gasp and felt the jolt of his cock as her tongue explored the slit at the top.
Titus’s breathing became ragged as Pru continued to alternately lick and lave his cockhead, her hand pumping that slick length, her other hand now cupping the tightness of his sac before rolling those balls in her palm.
“Dear God…” He groaned, sliding farther down on the seat as Pru’s fingers ventured lower and along that taut and sensitive stretch of skin between the fullness of his sac and the cleft of his ass.
The skin felt rougher there but was even more sensitive to the caress of her finger about that puckered hole. Titus’s breathing grew shallow, his thighs started to tremble, and his sac drew up tighter still.
Pru sucked his length to the back of her throat, fingers tightening as she pumped that length harder and faster, the tip of her finger now pressing against that sensitive pucker.
Titus’s release was immediate, his hands tightly gripping her shoulders as pulse after pulse of hot cum filled her throat to be swallowed down greedily.
His cock didn’t soften but remained hard and aching as he continued to thrust long after those pulses had stopped, his sac drawing up tight again, incredibly in readiness for another release.
“What is it?” he prompted as Pru suddenly removed her mouth and sat back, her expression one of alarm.
“I believe I heard my mother’s voice.” She released him before rising abruptly to her feet and rushing to the door to open it slightly and listen for noises outside the room. Her face was slightly pale when she closed it quickly again and turned back to face him. “My parents have arrived.”
“—cannot say how grateful my wife and I both are for your care of Prudence these past weeks.” Bryan Germaine, the Earl of Winchester, said warmly.
“I am only sorry my presence here has inconvenienced your household in this way,” Titus returned smoothly, sure the earl would not be feeling quite so grateful if he knew what he and Pru had been doing when the other gentleman arrived home half an hour or so ago.
His cock, still hard and straining as Pru caressed and sucked him toward a second climax, had deflated almost the instant he became aware of her parents’ arrival back in London. Pru had excused herself to hurry to her bedchamber to straighten and tidy her appearance before going down to greet her parents.
“Not at all,” the older man dismissed. “Prudence has told us how you saved her life. I do not believe the countess and I could have survived losing our second daughter,” he added emotionally.
Titus felt a return of his guilt in relation to both Priscilla’s and the butler’s deaths. He and Worthington had always known the risks involved in being agents for the Crown, but the Germaine family were only innocent bystanders who had now lost a daughter and a valued member of their household.
The earl’s eyes narrowed. “Prudence says I am not allowed to ask you for details of the shooting.”
Titus knew that was because, and despite everything, Pru was still trying to protect him and the other Sinners. “I am afraid that is the case, my lord.”
The older man nodded gravely. “Nevertheless, my wife will be along shortly to offer her own thank-you for your protection of our darling Pru.”
Titus felt discomforted by all the gratitude coming from the Germaine family. If not for him, they would never have suffered the death of their daughter Priscilla or their butler, and Pru would not have been in danger in the first place if his pursuit of her had not singled her out as one of the ladies suspected of being a traitor to England.
None of which he was able to share with the Earl and Countess of Winchester. Not that a full explanation would make their losses any easier to bear, but it might have been some consolation to know that their daughter and butler had died in service to the Crown.
To add insult to injury, Titus knew he had been on the verge of fucking their other daughter in their own home when they arrived.
His feelings of guilt deepened when the countess came to the bedchamber to express her own gratitude, the redness about her eyes telling him she had been crying.
Was it any wonder that Pru had refused to see him and seemed to hate him for those weeks following her sister’s death?
No doubt her parents would feel the same way if they were to ever learn of the part he had played in Priscilla’s and their butler’s deaths.
He and Pru had been living in a fool’s paradise these past two weeks. An exclusive world where it had seemed possible for the two of them to be together in whatever capacity they wished. Faced with the grief he and the other Sinners had brought down upon the Germaine family, Titus realized the utter impossibility of there ever being anything meaningful between Pru and himself.
Besides, the traitor to England was still out there, and Titus’s continued involvement with Pru still made her a target.
Whatever closeness he and Pru had shared, it was now over.