The Taming of Lady Honoria Page 3

  Robbie kept thrusting, grunting now, a fine tremor in his incredibly broad shoulders.

  Johnny closed his eyes, a wet, slurping sound coming from his mouth. He made a despairing noise and abruptly coughed, throat working while Robbie kept his head pinned.

  "All of it," growled Robbie.

  Johnny finally pushed away, face red, breathing hard through his nose. "I want to fuck you."

  Robbie pulled him to his feet and grabbed his chin, lifting Johnny's face to his. "Let's get this clear. I fuck you, you don't fuck me. And if you don't like it, get the hell out." Robbie pushed him off. "Get out anyway; I've had enough for tonight."

  Johnny left, shoulders hunched.

  Robbie opened the door after Johnnie left and Honoria smiled up at him. "Did you even think of my mortification when the door hit me on his way out?"

  Robbie laughed. "I know you, Honoria. You enjoyed that, didn't you?"

  Honoria laughed with him. "Perhaps you do know me," she admitted. "As I obviously do not know myself."

  She followed him into his bedchamber and settled herself on the bed as Robbie splashed water on his chest and face. The linens were still warm and Honoria allowed herself the indulgence of remembering the rough way Johnny had handled himself.

  Her breathing quickened and she reached down to squeeze herself through her delicate silk gown. It didn't seem enough, so she squeezed harder. Better, but still lacking. She tried wiggling the mound of flesh, moving it first one way then another. Finally, she pinched herself, admitting she'd liked the way Danton made her feel, wild and wanton.

  "Nice," said Robbie.

  He joined her on the bed. He'd opened his breeches and his cock protruded from his lap. Honoria fondled it thoughtfully.

  "I am of marriageable age."

  "No doubt," growled Robbie. He leaned back against the headboard, tucking the pillow behind his head.

  "And men are allowed their freedom before and after marriage."

  "Go on," he said.

  "I would like some freedom," she said, pulling at him in what she hoped was a meaningful way.

  His cock grew and lengthened. Honoria ran her hand over his massive chest and was amazed to see his nipples harden into taut little nubs.

  He growled under his breath, "Unless you're willing to take me again, I'd suggest you stop."

  She gave him a reluctant smile. "I'm still sore—"

  "Are you?" he asked. He shoved a hand under her skirt and pushed it up out of the way. The tip of his finger slipped into her easily and wiggled around. "You don't feel sore."

  Virginity was vastly overrated compared to the hot burn of Robbie's cock. "Be gentle?"

  "I've seen you ride without a sidesaddle." His fingers pressed deeper. "It won't hurt."

  "You're enormous. I'm sure it’ll be uncomfortable."

  That got her a faintly puzzled look. "But it won't hurt, Honoria."

  She parted her legs and ignored the little voice inside her that told her he wasn't—perhaps—the brightest candle in the box. She whispered, "Why don't you show me?"

  Back on familiar ground, Robbie grinned at her. "Take off your gown."

  Honoria struggled to undress herself, fingers skimming the lacing between her shoulders. Robbie was no help, although he watched curiously. Finally, she just lifted everything out of the way, pulled the busk from her corset and pushed her skirts up around her waist.

  Robbie rolled over on one arm and rummaged under the bed. His cock stuck out like a broomstick. It was hard to believe that enormous, fleshy wand had fit into her ass. Just thinking about it made her shudder deliciously.

  "This should work," he said, holding up a little jar. He unscrewed the lid and scooped out a thick white ointment.

  "What is it?" she asked suspiciously.

  "Grease," said Robbie.

  He pushed the gelatinous gob into her and it warmed almost instantly, oozing down the length of her crevice to puddle beneath her hips. Honoria sat up indignantly.

  "Oh!" she whispered, thighs sliding over each other.

  She ran a hand over herself, eyes drifting shut. A ripple of pleasure made her writhe. "That felt good."

  Robbie pushed her back and slid between her legs in one long, luscious swoop. A fine sheen of sweat burnished his chiseled features and literally made him glow. His hips surged, pounding her across the now slippery bed with a promise of yet more to come. Unable to stop her inexorable slide, Honoria held on to the thick muscle of his shoulders while the tension in her body built to a screaming pitch. She could feel every inch of his massive length stroking into her depths and the scratch of his balls as the twin weights slapped her exposed flesh.

  He was crushing her muslins and getting grease all over her chemise, but she didn't care.

  "Help me!" she cried.

  He slipped his hands under her well-lubricated flesh and jiggled her back and forth. "Move!"

  A tiny buzz lodged in Honoria's belly. She wasn't aware she'd started shouting until Robbie slapped a hand over her mouth. He reached down between them, fingers pushing through the delicate folds of her now swollen slit and grabbed her nub roughly. Honoria screamed into his palm, eyes wide.

  The muscles on Robbie's stomach clenched and he bit back a roar as he tried to push through her with his cock. Finally, he collapsed and rolled off, arms out flung.

  A thin whisper of music came from the ball, barely noticeable over the sound of snoring and kitchen noise.

  Honoria waited until her breathing evened out before she sat up. Her entire body throbbed, strangely unfulfilled. "I need to go before people notice I'm missing."

  Robbie handed her the thin wooden busk and she slipped it back into her corset. The heavy embroidery on her gown hid the worst of Robbie's depredations, but she still felt his thrusts and doubtless it was her imagination, but her skirts smelled like sex. She pushed the wrinkled flounces back into place.

  Robbie waved from his position on the bed. "Don't stay up too late. You've a long day ahead of you."

  Knowing he referred to the fox hunt organized by her father, Honoria sighed. Everyone at Cross Willow knew how much she loathed the hunt. "If only I didn't have to go."

  "You're a lady," said Robbie. "It's required."

  Honoria made a face and started down the narrow hall.

  It had seemed like a long time, but she could still hear the distant sound of a waltz and knew the ball wasn't nearly finished.

  She finally exited the servant's quarters and came out in the East wing behind a curtain. There were several curtained alcoves along the ornately decorated corridor. Her father was a stickler and refused to let servants ruin the perfect symmetry of the many statues he had lining the walls. Servants were expected to duck into an alcove and remain there until the family passed.

  Not that Honoria had such alcoves in her wing.

  She peeked out from behind the curtain and made sure no one was in sight before walking quickly to the next alcove. Sliding into the shadowed depths, she took a deep breath and shrieked into the hand abruptly clamped to her mouth.

  "Mpmf!" she exploded, kicking and fighting.

  "Much as I enjoy your thrashing," whispered Danton. "I'd advise you to be still. There are too many ears." His hand slid down her body and pushed at her skirts until he found the juncture of her thighs. "You are a hot little baggage and I dearly enjoyed watching you."

  "You dare!" Honoria swung her fist up to box his ears.

  He caught her fist easily. "Naughty little puss," he breathed. "That was a compliment. I saw you watch the stable-lad and I watched you in turn."

  "How could you?" she sobbed.

  His voice was lazy and amused, "How could you, my dear? It's not every woman that likes buggery."

  The flush rising from her chest to her jaw scalded her. "I…"

  "Don't apologize," whispered Danton. His lips brushed the side of her throat. "I quite enjoyed it."

  "How could you watch me?" she finally choked out.

  His fi
nger pushed into her and swirled around her nub, making her jump. "I suspect you were mad with passion and enjoyed the rough handling, else how would you be able to take such a large man into such a small hole?"

  She pushed his hand down and away. "I hate you!"

  "You hate my honesty? I'm wounded."

  Footsteps came down the hall and paused in front of the statue of Aphrodite. "Magnificent," said a plummy male voice.

  "I've always thought so," said Honoria's mother. "She was birthed from the foam of Uranus's genitalia and I particularly enjoy the suggestion of testes under her left foot."

  "My word! Those are testicles. You have a sharp eye, Lady Charlotte."

  Danton's laugh stirred the hair at Honoria's nape. The minute her mother's voice faded at the end of the corridor she turned and glared at the blank spot where she imagined his face to be.

  "I sincerely hope I never see you again."

  Danton turned her to face him. "Back here, love." He brushed a kiss on her nose and laughed softly. "It's been suggested I can see in the dark." He pulled her bodice up and pushed her out into the corridor. "Run, little rabbit. The wolf is gaining on you."

  This time he didn't bother to constrain his mirth. He followed her down the long hall, pinched her on the bottom and sauntered off in the opposite direction.

  ****

  Honoria galloped after the distant horses. Placid as Cleo was, she had a gallop like a bag of rolling rocks, which worked for Honoria because she had a seat like a sack of flour. Just short of a hedgerow, Cleo stopped and sidled sideways, snuffling nervously.

  Honoria wasn't a good rider. Her skills didn't include sitting on a rebellious horse.

  "Don't worry." She leaned forward and made the little nickering sound one of the grooms had taught her. "We can walk around it."

  Cleo rolled her eyes back, kicking wildly. Honoria fell forward, hands around the pommel. Her heart thundered and didn't stop even when Johnny ran up to grab the dangling reins.

  "Lady Honoria?" he shouted, over Cleo's panicked whuffles.

  He had volunteered for the position of whip, and the bright scarlet coat set off his fair hair and boyish face. Honoria couldn't look down into his eyes without remembering his lips locked around Robbie's cock.

  She turned away, uncomfortably aroused. "Johnny?"

  "The Earl your father has asked that you retire from the field."

  Her father glared at her from his position at the front of the pack. His seat was perfect, and the set, angry look to his mouth made it obvious she had embarrassed him yet again. In the family, she was the only one who couldn't ride. The others were all excellent horsemen.

  "Cleo isn't well," she told the stable lad.

  "The Earl said I wasn't to bring back an argument, m'lady."

  The brooding sky chose that instant to spit on her. Honoria's face felt so hot, it was a wonder the rain didn't sizzle from her reddened cheeks. She took the reins back and stared down at her white-knuckled grip, miserably aware of the riders gathered beside her father's big, blocky form.

  "Please tell my father—"

  "The Earl, your father, says I was also to tell you he'd have a tray sent up." Johnny looked as unhappy as Honoria felt, and to her horror she felt tears prickle at the back of her eyes.

  "Thank you," she said bleakly.

  "Go, m'lady—afore he looks this way. Please."

  "Perhaps you'd better listen," said a thin, spiteful voice.

  Honoria glanced to the left where her younger sister sat on a horse so perfectly behaved it looked like a statue. Despite an excess of nose and narrow little eyes, Eugenie cut a dashing figure in her scarlet riding habit.

  "You embarrass all of us," she said. "You might be passably pretty, but you can't even control your hack, and your seat—! Why don't you just go away?"

  Honoria opened her mouth to tell Eugenie where to put her interfering and huge nose, but the faces turned her way were hard and condemning. Was it really the end of the world if she couldn't control her horse? She didn't even like hunting.

  Honoria swallowed back her retort and stared down at the space between Cleo's ears. "I'm not leaving because you told me to go; I'm leaving because I don't want to be here anymore."

  Eugenie wheeled her horse around. "Think what you wish."

  Without the hunting party the little lane felt very isolated. Rain hit the back of Honoria's head and dripped into her collar. Cleo danced back and shuddered, dumping Honoria in the mud.

  "Eugenie!" she called.

  From where she sat, Honoria saw her sister jump the hedgerow without a backward glance and hated herself for trying. Her family didn't care a whit about anything she did. Honoria staggered to her feet, pulling her sodden skirts out of the mud. Her pelisse was soaked and her favorite lilac half boots were ruined. Cleo was nowhere in sight, and the distant baying of hounds told her the hunt was on the move. She was alone.

  "Lady Honoria?"

  She looked up into a pair of bright blue eyes. "Drat it all."

  Danton swung down off his horse and gave her an elegant bow.

  "Lord Danton," she whispered, staring at the enormous bulge in his breeches.

  For such a small man, he was remarkably well endowed, or remarkably well-padded, for she'd heard friends talk of men who employed the services of cotton wadding. His coat didn't lie. For his shoulders weren't the broadest and his belly didn't bulge with muscle but when he gave her a brilliant smile and brought her hand to his lips, his gallantry made her giggle.

  "Is all forgiven, Lord Danton?"

  "How could I stay mad at such beauty?" He released her and lifted an elegant gold brow. "I saw your horse carry you off and thought to rescue you, but it appears you've rescued yourself."

  Honoria gave him a hopeful smile. "Alas, it's no rescue, sir. For I've lost my way and have only my feet to carry me home."

  Danton bowed again. "My horse, as well as myself, are yours to command."

  She swept a hand down over her clothes and glanced up at the sky. At that instant another raindrop spattered her face. "Home, if you would be so kind?"

  Danton helped her into his saddle and swung into place behind her. He set an easy walking pace and it gave Honoria plenty of time to realize the bulge in his breeches was real. The length of his cock pressed into her hip with increasing vigor.

  "How much farther?"

  Honoria wasn't sure if she should be alarmed or complimented. His length kept swelling and she could feel the rounded bulge of his cockhead.

  Danton had spent the last ten minutes casually moving closer to her breast. On one hand, he'd been easily handled the last time and from the looks of it, a storm was on the way. Honoria didn't relish the idea of a long, wet slog down the muddy lanes. On the other, he was persistent, and Robbie was the last persistent man she'd dealt with.

  "Not much farther," he said easily. This time, so she wouldn't mistake it, his fingers lingered on her breast, seeking her nipple beneath the heavy cloth.

  Honoria shuddered, "Sir, your hand."

  "A thousand pardons," said Danton. He took his time, and traced his hand down over her belly before allowing his arms to form a loose circle around her.

  Night was closing in fast. Surely Cross Willow was over the next hill. The hunt couldn't have gone more than a few miles from the estate. She was trapped with Danton until they returned to the stables, but it wasn't forever. Surrounded by the warmth of his arms—which were a lot less scrawny than she'd imagined—Honoria closed her eyes. Danton's arms tightened and she let her cheek rest on his chest, turning just enough to rest comfortably in his embrace.

  She woke to the sensation of flying. Her head narrowly missed a newel post and smacked into the edge of a door.

  Danton swore under his breath. "Sorry about that."

  "Why are you carrying me up a flight of—this isn't Cross Willow!"

  "How amazingly astute of you," said Danton. He dropped her on a plush down mattress and held a low-voiced conference with a ma
n she assumed was the innkeeper.

  Honoria sat up and rubbed her forehead. "Surely you can't mean to spend the night!"

  Danton pushed the innkeeper out. "Sorry," he said without sounding repentant at all, "I haven't the damnedest idea where we are. However, this is an inn. It has the usual amenities, and I'm lost and hungry. Yes, I intend to spend the night. You may stay or continue on without me. Give over, Honoria. Morning is a long way off."

  It was the longest thing she'd ever heard him say and the most bloody-minded pragmatic. It made something turn over in her mind that had never been there before.

  "You're up to no good," she cried. Her palm smacked over her eyes. Oh my God, had she just told him she was aware of his villainous scheme?

  He pulled her hand down and gave her a seraphic, blue-eyed look.

  "You wound me," he said. "I haven't stripped you naked or fucked you silly, and you're already accusing me of improprieties."

  Honoria sputtered against her will and Danton casually pushed her to the side, swinging a leg up on the bed. She rolled down into the hollow formed by his body and wrapped around him.

  "This is a bad idea."

  "There are worse things than being stranded with me," said Danton. He pulled her closer.

  She could hear the beating of his heart and smell his intoxicating scent, a mixture of brandy, cheroots and musk. Her hand curled over his lapel, and he ruined it by laughing at her.

  "Don't build me up into a hero, Honoria."

  "You did save me from a long, unpleasant walk," she reminded him.

  "For my own nefarious purpose," he said, smoothing her hair back.

  A knock on the door brought Danton to his feet. The innkeeper put a big, wooden tray on the table in front of the fire and left just as quickly.

  Danton reached out and wrapped his hand around hers. The simple contact turned her to mush and she wondered if he was aware his eyes were blazing.

  Half an hour later, Honoria chased a scrap of buttered ham with her bread, in utter harmony with Danton. Her clothes were still damp and her hair had dried into a tangle of knots, but he hadn't mentioned her unladylike behavior or even given her a second look when she ate all the bread. Instead he'd handed her a tureen of pineapple jelly and a spoon. It was beyond heavenly.