Taken by the Earl (Regency Unlaced 3) Page 6

  “Your horse is better?” Fliss stretched her arm over the top of the wooden stall to gently stroke the neck of the chestnut stallion.

  “Much,” Sin confirmed as he stepped out into the main stable and crossed to where there was a bucket of water in which to wash.

  It warmed Fliss’s heart to see the beautiful horse was at least standing. She seemed to recall her father had once said that if a sick horse lay down, it rarely got up again.

  Stroking and talking to the animal allowed her to avoid looking at Sin.

  She had not thought… It had not occurred to her earlier when he said he wished to change into more suitable clothes…

  The earl was only half-dressed.

  He wore no jacket or waistcoat and necktie. His sleeves were turned back to just beneath his elbows, and his fine linen shirt was unfastened at the throat, revealing a light dusting of dark hair on his muscular chest.

  The darkness of his hair was also tousled and fell rakishly across his forehead.

  It reminded Fliss that the two of them were completely alone here in the dimly lit stable. Only the snorting and stomping of horses broke the silence. The air was filled with the smell of the freshly cut straw that lined the floors of the stalls, and the heat of the two dozen or so horses stabled here.

  There was something earthy, almost primitive, about their surroundings, Fliss acknowledged. A far cry from the Eckles’s comfortable public rooms, where Fliss had spent the majority of her day following her picnic luncheon with Lord Sterling, when she had singled out and chatted with one fair-haired gentleman after another. So far, she’d had no success. Nothing about any of those gentlemen reminded her of the harshly spoken man in the Woodrows’ library.

  “I am ready for you to feed me now.”

  Fliss drew her breath in sharply at the husky intimacy of both Sin’s words and tone. An intimacy added to when she turned around and saw that he had now removed his shirt completely and was drying off his freshly washed chest with it.

  And such a chest it was.

  Fliss had guessed Sin’s body would be broad beneath his tailored clothing, but she had not imagined that clothing hid anything as magnificent as these massively wide shoulders and muscular chest. His nipples were as dark as pennies amid the light dusting of dark hair that formed a vee across his chest before tapering and then disappearing into the waistband of his black pantaloons.

  Taut muscles rippled as he threw the shirt down on a stool. “Fliss?”

  Her legs moved of their own volition, it seemed, as she walked slowly toward him, her mesmerized gaze fixed on that naked and magnificent chest.

  She came to a halt mere inches in front of him. Her breathing was shallow, but even so, the bodice of her gown felt too tight to contain the sensitive, heavy weight of her breasts. Her heart fluttered wildly as she raised her gaze to meet his fierce emerald one.

  A nerve pulsed in his tightly clenched jaw. “You should not have come here.”

  Fliss took no heed of his warning as she slowly lifted her hands toward him, feeling the heat given off from his naked flesh without even touching it. Heat, and that clean male smell that was purely Sin.

  Purely?

  Fliss almost choked on the thought. There was absolutely nothing pure about Sin Montgomery.

  Or the way he made her feel.

  Sin sucked in his breath as he felt his skin absorb and respond to the soft touch of Fliss’s gloved fingers, and all the way down to his rapidly engorging cock. He tensed as those fingers became bolder still, trailing across the hard nubbins of his nipples, stroking and then lightly pinching, much as he had with Fliss’s own breasts this morning.

  She gazed curiously up at him. “Does that give you as much pleasure as it gives me?”

  “Yes,” he bit out between clenched teeth.

  She nodded as if satisfied with his answer before her eyes lowered to watch as her hands moved lower still, down over the soft vee of dark hair to where Sin’s fully erect cock now strained the material at the front of his pantaloons.

  She chewed on her bottom lip. “May I…?”

  May she? The desire to take, to possess, had been raging through Sin’s body since this morning. Only the distraction of caring for Dante had prevented him from returning to the house and making love to Fliss where she stood. Or lay. It had not mattered where, only that he do so.

  She had disobeyed him by leaving her bedchamber, and he would bring her to task over that later. Much later. For now, Sin only wanted her hands and mouth on him.

  His fingers shook slightly as he unfastened the front of his pantaloons before peeling back the material and exposing his bare and straining cock. He heard Fliss draw in a breath as he fisted his cock and pumped several times along its length, resulting in the release of liquid at its tip. “Would you like to taste it?” he invited gruffly as he saw how avidly she watched him.

  Fliss’s gaze darted up to Sin’s and then back down again as his long fingers continued to caress the length of his cock and more of that release escaped its slitted tip.

  The scene was reminiscent of that one in the Woodrows’ library, and yet at the same time nothing like it. There was no aggression in Sin’s tone, only invitation, and the truth was, Fliss wanted to taste him.

  She licked her lips even as she dropped slowly to her knees in front of him, one of her hands moving so she could curl her fingers about his, learning, watching how he liked to be stroked. She reveled in his soft groans of pleasure as she used both her hands to take over that stroking.

  The bulbous head was now slick and gleaming from the release of his juices. Fliss’s tongue darted out to lap up several drops as it began to dribble down his shaft onto her fingers.

  It tasted salty and sweet at the same time. An addictive nectar that she began to lap up greedily.

  “Take me in your mouth, Fliss,” Sin groaned. “Please!” His fingers gently tangled in her hair as her lips parted and he guided her mouth onto his cock, one of her hands remaining wrapped about the length her mouth could not accommodate.

  He was at once surrounded by that moist and hungry heat, so reminiscent of fire inside her channel when it had contracted about his thrusting finger. Sin had no control over his own thrusts into the inferno of her mouth, his fingers in her hair holding her closer, and then closer still as his cock hit the back of her throat and he felt his release building.

  He would pull out before that happened. He wanted a little longer thrusting inside that fire. Only a little longer, and then he would—

  “Oh God…!” he groaned, completely out of control as Fliss’s other hand cupped and squeezed his balls.

  There was a deafening roar in his ears as his movements became erratic, desperate, and his release burst hotly up the length of his cock before it exploded in pulse after fiery pulse into the heat of Fliss’s eager mouth.

  Chapter 8

  “I tell you, I saw her come out here.”

  “Well, she is obviously not here now, so we may as well go back to the house.”

  Fliss froze at the sound of those two male voices, waiting only long enough to hear the stable doors close behind the men before sitting up abruptly.

  Sin had spread out the blanket on a pile of straw, and the two of them had lain down together on it after…well, after. Fliss still blushed to think of the intimacy of caressing and sucking Sin’s cock until he released in her mouth.

  She had never done such a thing before, never even thought of or wanted to do such a thing before him. But oh, how she had enjoyed it. Touching his silken cock. Caressing the length of it. Taking it into her mouth. The taste of him. The thrill of knowing she was giving Sin pleasure. So much pleasure, he had completely lost control and released in her mouth.

  Lying in his arms afterward, cradled against the warmth of his naked chest, was something else she had never done. She had discovered it was an intimacy almost as deep and pleasurable as what had come before it.

  Fliss had almost been asleep in Sin’s arms
when she heard the stable door open and the sound of men’s voices.

  One male voice in particular.

  “Fliss?” Sin prompted as he sat up beside her and saw how pale her cheeks had become, her arms wrapped about her knees protectively.

  “It was his voice,” she breathed, eyes wide. “The man who came here to kill you.”

  Sin glanced toward the closed stable door. “Are you sure?”

  “Of course I am sure,” she came back sharply. “I will never forget that voice. Never.” She gave a shudder.

  Sin stood quickly to pick up his shirt, grimacing as he felt it was still damp from where he had used it to dry himself earlier.

  “My God…!” Fliss gasped, her eyes wide when Sin turned to look at her enquiringly. “How did you come by those scars on your back?”

  “Courtesy of the French, after I was taken prisoner in 1811.” His eyes narrowed at the memory of those torturous months of incarceration.

  Fliss could not imagine the pain Sin must have suffered when he received that crisscross of scars across his back. “They whipped you?” Her fingers itched to touch those scars, to soothe away the memory of the pain inflicted.

  The earl shrugged. “It was common practice for the French, as a way of extracting information.”

  Fliss had no doubt they had been unable to make this stubborn Scot betray king or country, even if that country was his mother’s rather than his father’s.

  Sin pulled his shirt on over his head, hiding the scars from her view. “Stay here.”

  “Where are you going?” Fliss scrambled to her feet beside him, still deeply disturbed by those terrible scars on his back.

  “I may be able to get a glimpse of the two men before they reach the house—”

  “No!” She grasped his arm with both hands. “Sin, you cannot. You must not. He—they might try to kill you.”

  “I believe they were looking for you, not me.” Sin narrowed his gaze on her. “What else have you been doing today, besides sneaking down to the kitchen and bringing me food?”

  She released his arm, her gaze no longer meeting his. “I was only trying to help. I was not alone for any length of time with any of the gentlemen. Well, perhaps Lord Sterling during our picnic, and Mr. Archibald Greaves, but—”

  “Enough!” Sin’s voice was dangerously soft. He did not feel an ounce of remorse as he saw Fliss flinch. “We will talk about this again when I return.” He moved to the stable door. “For now, you will stay here, and I will see if I recognize either of the men who just left.”

  Fliss began to tremble as she waited for Sin’s return in the gloom of the stable. Long, tense minutes when she had no idea what was going on outside in the darkness. Sin was a large man, and obviously more than capable of taking care of himself, but he was up against two men, not one.

  As for his threat to chastise her once he returned, she welcomed it, because at least it would mean he had returned.

  Her heart stuttered, her breath held a prisoner in her throat as she heard the catch opening on the outside of the stable door and it slowly opened.

  Her knees almost buckled in relief when she saw it was Sin who had quietly entered, his gaze narrowed to a pale glitter as he strode purposefully toward her.

  Fliss backed up against one of the stalls as she recalled his earlier threat. “Did you manage to see them?”

  “No.” He kept on walking until he stood directly in front of her. “You went for a picnic today with Lord Sterling?”

  “Yes. But—”

  “What other gentlemen did you spend time with?”

  “I believe I conversed with several. I do not remember all their names,” she said defensively as he glared down at her.

  “Try.”

  “I only wanted to see if I recognized the voice of the man in the Woodrows’ library.”

  “And did you?”

  She shuddered. “Not until a few minutes ago, no.”

  “You’re sure that was him?”

  “Oh yes.”

  His jaw tightened. “He was looking for you.”

  “I cannot imagine why.” She really couldn’t. There had been ribald games late this afternoon in the drawing room, but Fliss had managed to avoid being involved in them by spending an hour or so in the hothouse at the back of the manor with Mr. Archibald Greaves. He was an amateur botanist, so it had been easy to distract him from seduction in favor of telling her what the plants were and where they came from. Sadly, she had not detected any sense of similarity between him and the man who was here to kill Sin.

  “No?” A nerve pulsed in the earl’s jaw. His hands clenched at his sides.

  “No.”

  “You were seen strolling in the garden with me this morning,” he reminded her.

  “And I was seen picnicking with Lord Sterling at luncheon. Spent an hour or so discussing the beauty of Kent with Sir Reginald Sutcliffe this afternoon. Conversed with Lord Mitchell at tea. Allowed Mr. Archibald Greaves to show me the hothouse after tea. Was seated next to Lord Waverly at dinner—”

  “You are an impetuous, disobedient— Did I nae tell ye I wanted ye to stay safe in yer room today?”

  Fliss’s eyes widened as Sin lost his smooth, unaccented baritone and instead lapsed into a broad Scottish accent. As testament to just how angry he was? Fliss had a feeling it was.

  She doubted he would believe she had never been disobedient before today. She had been a quiet and agreeable child. Married the gentleman her parents chose for her. Been a loyal and steadfast wife to Stephen. For the past year, she had been his equally respectable widow.

  Only Sin Montgomery brought out the rebel in her.

  And the wanton.

  She gave a shake of her head. “I told you, I was only trying to help—”

  “If I’d wanted yer help, then I would ha’ asked ye for it.” He began to pace the stable. “This isna a game, woman.” He ran an agitated hand through the dark thickness of his hair.

  Her frown was pained. “I cannot stand by and just let someone kill you.”

  “I will make sure ye dinna.” His expression was grim. “Have ye ever been to Scotland?”

  “Scotland?”

  “Aye, it’s a bonny place past the top o’ England, ye ken?” His smile was hard and mocking.

  “I know where Scotland is,” she snapped. “I have just never had reason to go there.”

  “Well, ye ha’ reason now,” he assured in a hard voice. “My home there is comfortable enough.”

  “I am sure that it is.”

  “Ye’ll go, then?”

  “Will you be going with me?”

  “I intend ta stay here and find yon bastard responsible for almost killing my groom and Dante.”

  As Fliss had suspected he might. “Then I am afraid I will have to refuse your kind invitation and remain here too. If—when I choose to leave Eckles Manor, I have a perfectly good house of my own in the country to return to,” she added primly.

  Sin’s day had started so enjoyably when he made love to Fliss in her bedchamber and then walked in the garden with her. But it had deteriorated from that moment on. Someone had poisoned his groom and his horse. He had spent most of the day and evening ensuring neither of them died. The interlude with Fliss had been more than pleasant, to be sure. But learning what she had been up to all day was not.

  He scowled darkly. “Ye deserve ta ha’ yer ass tanned fer disobeying me.”

  Her brows rose. “Lay a hand on me in anger, sir, and you will live to regret it.”

  He chuckled. “Oh, it will not be done in anger,” he assured her, his Scottish accent fading as he brought his temper under control. “And you might enjoy having your bottom spanked.”

  “I most certainly would not.”

  “Are you sure about that?” She might have bristled with indignation at Sin’s threat, but there was also a measure of curiosity in those gray eyes. Whether she realized it or not, the prim and respectable Mrs. Felicity Randall was excited at the prospect
of having her ass spanked.

  “Positive.”

  In truth, Sin was at a loss to know what to do with this woman. Fliss had behaved bravely, even fearlessly, by coming here to warn him he was in danger. But being brave could just as easily get her killed as save his life when she might now be seen as a weakness to be exploited. Nor could he force her into going to Scotland.

  But the fact that Fliss had recognized the voice of his assassin meant the other man was most certainly here. Sin could not ignore that fact. Or the danger it would put Fliss in if the two of them were to spend any more time together in public.

  “Did the other gentleman assume he was only out for a little late-night fun with an unprotected lady, I wonder?” he said aloud. “Or does your assassin have an accomplice?”

  “He is your assassin, not mine,” Fliss replied, out of sorts that her intimate interlude with Sin was ending so badly.

  Also with the knowledge the gentleman who intended to kill Sin was here at Eckles Manor.

  And feeling more than a little guilty that she had felt excited at the thought of Sin spanking her…

  She really had become a woman she barely recognized these past two days. She’d allowed Sin liberties not even Stephen had taken, and taken liberties with Sin that she had never dreamt of with any other man, including her husband, but which had seemed to come quite naturally with him.

  As for his suggestion she go to his home in Scotland for her own safety…

  A part of her was curious to see Sin’s home, to be a guest there. But not if Sin would not be there too.

  Besides, even with Sin absent, it really was not done for a widowed lady to spend time at the home of a single gentleman. Sally had done it, she reminded herself. Yes, her dear friend Sally had stayed unchaperoned at the home of the rakish Marquis of Oxbridge, and unlike Fliss, she had never been married. But Sally was now betrothed to her handsome marquis, the wedding to take place before Christmas. Fliss held no such illusions where she and Sin Montgomery were concerned. A few illicit encounters, like the one they had just enjoyed, were all she might expect from the Earl of Winterbourne.