Pride and Pleasure

“You might not like it,” he warned. “Some women do not.”



Her brow arched defiantly. Her mouth formed an O, and she pushed the glistening fingertip inside. She hummed softly, and that was his undoing.



“Put your mouth on me,” he said gruffly. “Wrap your lips around the head.”



She bent over him without hesitation. Her hair—still partially pinned—drifted over her shoulders, with some freed pieces falling to pool on his stomach. He reached up with one hand and pushed her hair out of the way of his view.



He watched her lips part, her head lower, his cock disappear inside her…Her mouth fastened on the plush head, and he groaned raggedly. The drenching heat and gentle suction were torturous.



“That’s good,” he gasped. “Take more.”



Her lips slid farther down, pushing his cockhead deeper into the narrowing channel of her mouth.



“Suck. Ah…yes, like that.” Sweat dotted his brow and upper lip. “God…your tongue…”



A moan vibrated along the length of his shaft.



Any worry he’d had that she would find the act distasteful vanished with that sound. Her hand pushed into his breeches and cupped his testicles. Her avid tongue rubbed the underside of his cock. Her head bobbed up and down his length, her mouth sucking so forcefully it was audible. The wet smacking echoed through the massive room, then rippled through him in a wracking shudder.



As frenzied as she’d been in her own extremis, she was similarly ravenous for his. Eliza worked his cock as if starved for the taste of him. The sight of her fervor, the feel of her hands and mouth, the sounds she made…it was all so erotic he lost himself to her.



“You make me so hard,” he growled. “Desist. Let me finish this.”



In response, she took him as deep as she could, her tongue pinning him to the curved roof of her mouth. She sucked him so vigorously his thighs shook with the pleasure.



“Christ.” His hips lunged upward. The first furious spurt of semen felt as if it was wrenched from his spine.



Eliza swallowed deeply and worked her hand on him, pumping his seed up the length of his shaft and into her eager mouth. Groaning and sweating, Jasper clenched his jaw shut and fucked his cock through her swollen lips, spewing his lust in an orgasm so intense it was painful. The rush of climax was endless, his cum spilling over her stroking tongue in thick, creamy washes. She took every wrenching pulse with unmitigated greed, urging him on with muffled moans.



Jasper collapsed to the floor with arms outstretched, muscles twitching from his calves to his shoulders, his lungs fighting for every serrated breath. His cock began to soften, as exhausted as he was, but she didn’t cease her ministrations. The tip of her tongue dipped into the tiny hole at the crown, drinking the last bit of semen he had left. He closed his eyes, drunk on the repletion sinking into the very marrow of his bones.



“Come here,” he murmured, needing to hold her.



As she curled against his side on the marble and entwined her legs with his, Jasper didn’t recognize the feeling gripping his chest in a vise.



It was hours later when he realized the sensation might have been joy.



“Good morning, Miss Martin.”



Eliza welcomed the distraction provided by the arrival of her man of affairs shortly after eleven o’clock two days later. Jasper had sent a note, excusing himself from their scheduled morning meeting, and while it expressed regret, the missive gave no explanation for why he’d canceled. The last time they spoke at length was during yesterday’s dance lesson in the ballroom—a space she would never think of in the same way again.



“Good morning, Mr. Reynolds,” she replied briskly, closing her ledger and smiling.



He stared at her, blinking, as if taken aback, which brought to her attention how readily she smiled of late.



Clearing his throat, he took a seat in front of her desk. She was pleased to see he’d procured a new satchel. Unlike his previous one, this one was made of butter-soft burgundy leather ornamented with gold hardware. He was a wonderful employee, one who worked hard and performed well, and she paid him accordingly. It was good to see him indulging himself.



“I understand congratulations are in order,” he said.



“Yes. Thank you.” Eliza linked her fingers on the desktop. “How is Mrs. Reynolds?”



“Very well.”



He told a story about his wife’s social pursuits that Eliza made every effort to appear interested in. She was grateful when he moved on and said, “I’ve also received word from my brother.”



“Oh?” A quiver moved through her tummy. Jasper’s agreement to be more forthcoming about his situation put her in an awkward position. She’d grown more and more apprehensive about sending Tobias Reynolds to Ireland. Although she had engaged Tobias before beginning an intimate relationship with Jasper, she was nevertheless circumventing the man she intended to marry by researching his past without his knowledge or consent.



Reynolds settled more comfortably into the chair. “He arrived safely and has begun the initial inquiries.”



She reminded herself to trust her instincts. “I would like to recall him. I have the information I need.”



“If you’re certain…”



“I am. He’ll still be paid the agreed-upon fee for his time, of course.”



“I never doubted it.” His fingers curled and uncurled around the wooden arms of his chair. “May I speak freely, Miss Martin?”



“Always,” she assured. “I value honesty above all else. I’d expect you would know that by now.”



“I do. However…” He inhaled deeply, then exhaled in a rush of words. “Have I been remiss in my duties or disappointing in some way? Have I given you cause to distrust me?”



“No.” Her spine straightened with alarm. “Why would you have such concerns?”



“You’ve always asked me to investigate your suitors. Therefore, I was startled to learn of your engagement to a gentleman whose circumstances I was not asked to explore. I know he is a friend of Lord Melville, but he’s also a possible investor and even in that capacity, you did not ask me to verify his solvency.”



Eliza was impressed. “Your thoroughness is laudable, sir.”



“I’m relieved to hear you say so.” He leaned forward. “I had only yesterday and this morning to inquire, but I must confess, what little I’ve gleaned has made me uneasy.”



“Uneasy?” Certainly Terrance Reynolds wasn’t the only enterprising and curious individual in town. What could be learned about Jasper through cursory inquiry?



“His residence is in a less-than-fashionable area of town. He has all manner of disreputable-looking individuals coming and going as they please. I’m not yet certain, but I believe he engages in trade. I suspect he makes a comfortable living, but it’s doubtful he has your means.”



“Few do. Regardless, Mr. Bond counts the Earl of West-field as a close acquaintance.”



“There is that,” Reynolds conceded. “Frankly, your betrothed is a bit of an enigma.”



Much obliged by his loyalty, Eliza felt it best to offer a truthful explanation for Jasper, so Reynolds would no longer be troubled. “Mr. Bond is a thief-taker.”



“A thief-taker!” There was a pause, during which he blinked rapidly. Finally, he said, “Not one of the better-known ones.”



“No, of course not. It would have been impossible for Mr. Bond to assume the guise of a viable suitor if he was a familiar personage. I found him through a referral.”



“Found…? You sought a thief-taker? I don’t understand.”



“Do you recall when Mrs. Peachtree experienced monetary troubles earlier this year?” she asked, referring to a tenant who’d suspected one of her employees of pilfering from the till. “You reported that she hired a Runner. When my situation arose, I approached her for his name and engaged the same man. However, Mr. Bell was unable to assist me. He referred me to Thomas Lynd, who suggested Mr. Bond would be more suitable.”



“Dear God.” Reynolds flushed. “You’ve done so much without my assistance…I cannot help feeling superfluous.”



“Quite the opposite. You’re an excellent man of affairs, sir, and valuable to me. Therefore, I was unwilling to endanger you. You see, I have recently found myself to be prone to accidents of a disturbing and suspicious nature.”



“Accidents!” He paled. “What…? Why…? Damnation! Who would have reason to harm you?”



“That’s what I hired Mr. Bond to discover.”



“I wish you’d seen fit to include me. Tobias and I could have overseen a thief-taker or Runner on your behalf. You could have avoided the ruse of an engagement to Mr. Bond.”



“It isn’t a ruse.” She lamented the shadow of confusion that swept over his features. “My relationship with Mr. Bond is twofold.”



Reynolds began to shift uncomfortably in his seat. He looked pained.



“If you have something to say, sir,” she prompted. “Please feel free. I respect your opinions and viewpoints as they relate to my business matters.”



He cleared his throat again. “I find the novelty of the series of events leading to the hiring of Mr. Bond to be…dubious. The circle begins when you’re subjected to incidences causing you to fear for your safety. Then, you hire a thief-taker. The result of which leads to the thief-taker successfully wooing you into accepting his proposal of marriage, despite his lack of suitability. I cannot help wondering if the end ties back to the beginning in a manner more closely related than surface appearances indicate.”



“You’re wondering whether it’s possible Mr. Bond is the source of my problem, as well as the solution to it? No, do not look chagrined! It is a fascinating hypothesis. I’m embarrassed I didn’t think of it myself.” She leaned back in her chair and allowed her mind to toy with the idea. “Mr. Bond would indeed be quite clever if he arranged to create circumstances necessitating his hiring, then used his employment to gain access to wooing me. However, considering my former aversion to marriage, I cannot see how anyone would imagine such machinations would be successful.”



“Your financial means and familial circumstances would certainly make the effort worthwhile. What would Mr. Bond have to lose? At the very least, he would be paid to solve a mystery of his own making, ensuring a satisfying conclusion for you and a financial reward for him.”



Eliza smiled. “I’m congratulating myself for hiring such a creative thinker for my man of affairs.”



Reynolds looked embarrassed. “You have always been so circumspect, especially about your suitors. Please allow me to continue investigating Mr. Bond. I’ll accept no fee for my services. Putting your mind at ease is the very least I can do.”



“I am not uneasy, Mr. Reynolds. Trust is of equal value to me as honesty. I’ve extended mine to Mr. Bond without reservation, and I have no wish to erode that foundation with needless doubts.”



He nodded. “As you wish.”



“Thank you, Mr. Reynolds. However, I do have something for you to look into. The Earl of Montague is creating an investment pool. I should like to know what speculation has garnered his interest and how you assess its viability.”



“Are you interested in joining the pool?”



“Not at this time. Lord Montague approached Mr. Bond about it, and I’m concerned as to whether or not the investment is sound.”



Reynolds withdrew his weekly report from his satchel and stood. “I’ll begin my inquiries straightaway.”



Eliza accepted the papers with a brisk nod. “Godspeed, sir.”



He gave a slight bow. “To you as well, Miss Martin.”



For the hour following Terrance Reynolds’s departure, Eliza worked diligently on a list of garments and items she would need for her trousseau. Her desire to replace her entire wardrobe with gowns of brighter hues and more provocative lines was just another sign of how much she’d changed since meeting Jasper. It was not an alteration of character she took lightly.



After contemplating the matter thoroughly, she understood that Jasper wasn’t the entirety of the reason why she was able to abandon long-held attitudes and beliefs. Her own ability to trust him enabled her transformation. She’d watched her mother falter through one relationship after another, spiraling deeper into melancholia with every failed romance. Whatever it was Georgina had been seeking in a partner, she’d been unable to find it. Eliza now suspected a lack of trust and honesty was to blame. All this time, she’d thought avoidance of romantic entanglements was the solution. In truth, the answer was simply to find a partner whom she could trust. Now she had only to cultivate her bond with Jasper through transparency and forthrightness.



A soft rapping on her open study door drew Eliza’s attention from the papers on her desk. Robbins stood on the threshold with the post in hand.



“Excuse me, miss.”



The butler entered and set the salver on the edge of her desk. “Will you be taking tea here, or with his lordship?”



“With Melville, thank you.”



Eliza stared at the unusually large pile of letters in front of her. She shifted through them, separating Melville’s correspondence from her own. The majority of her post was invitations, far more than she was accustomed to receiving. Confused by the sudden influx, she collected Melville’s missives and stood. She went to her uncle’s study and discovered him absent, then moved on to the conservatory. There she found him watering the plants he experimented with. The afternoon sunlight poured in through the many windows, warming the enclosed space and creating a noticeable humidity.



“Good afternoon, my lord,” she said upon entering.



Melville presented his cheek to her, and she pressed a kiss to it. “Eliza,” he said breathlessly. “Remember the splicing I shared with you? Look how it’s thriving!”