Nash's Niche (Behind Closed Doors) (6 page)

Chapter Seven

The soft skin under his hand was real. Up until then Nash hadn't been sure if he was awake or indulging in wishful thinking.

Somewhere in the back of his consciousness he'd felt himself falling and tried to brace himself for a hard surface, sore knees and a bruised prick. Instead he'd hit silk and softness, and been maneuvered into a comfortable position. It had seemed like all his birthdays had come at once, when soft fingers had lifted his shirt and traced the outline of his tattoo; the one he and a very special lady had designed and executed together. How did this lady know of it? Had she merely been curious enough about him to want to see more of him, in a literal sense? Whichever it was, Nash gave thanks. It was only as she began to inch away he decided he needed more.

To spank her had been an impulse. To see her writhe and hear her pleasure as his hands touched the soft skin of her backside had been perfect. He'd repeated the gesture twice more, and been repaid with another groan of appreciation. Nash itched to see if her skin was beginning to turn rosy under his ministrations. However
, he was under no illusion that if he let go of her to draw the candle nearer she'd bolt, and he had no idea if he'd locked the door to the corridor or not.

She squirmed and Nash realized the movement was bringing her pleasure as the cover rubbed her quim.
If she wants pleasure it will be by my hand and my cock, no other way.
Nash ran his hand up her leg to the apex of her thighs and wasn't surprised to feel her wet under his fingers. She was so ready for him that he knew he had to give her what she wanted.

"Get up on your knees." His tone was authoritarian. To his delight after a brief hesitation, she obeyed him. The sight of her arse presented to him so perfectly teased his memory.
From where, he had no idea, and he wasn’t going to try and decide why at that moment. It could wait, but fucking couldn't.

"I'm going to fill your cunt and screw you hard
," he warned her. "It won't be a slow, sweet loving. It will be a hard and fast ride. Are you ready for that? Will you be with me every step of the way?  Over and over, until I spill and almost fill you. I won't pull out until the last minute. Will you accept that?"  He could hardly breathe, as he rubbed his cock over her crack. One day, he promised himself, one day.

"Perhaps if you fucked me instead of prosing about it, you'd see how ready I am my…sir." She wriggled her arse and spread her legs a little more. The position gave him better access. With more haste than finesse he readjusted his cock, found her cunt and pushed.

Her high-pitched keen was all he could ask for. The scream that followed as he moved one hand to nip the tiny bud, and soothe the pinch, was enough to waken the servants, but Nash had no thought other than it increased his arousal. His bollocks hurt with the effort of not coming, but he was determined his companion achieve her release first. With the amount of brandy still in his bloodstream, he wasn't sure he'd have the strength or the nous to be able to help her after he was sated.

"Come for me, come now."

She was shaking, and he could see a fine sheen of perspiration on her arse as it glowed under the soft candlelight. Her back was still shrouded in material, and Nash wished he'd had the forethought to rip the garment off her and bare her all. Then maybe he'd get a clue as to who she was. He surged hard and fast until his balls slapped her body, and it was enough to thrust her over the edge, and she sobbed, "Yesss oh sweet lord yes…"

Her perfect words and the way she milked his cock was enough for him to let go. With one more powerful movement
, he felt his own climax build and almost overtake him before he had time to be the gentleman and spill on the covers, as far away from her as he could.

Nash shuddered and groaned as arrows of fire and hot stings covered his skin. His body sang with the gratification it had received and a ringing in his ears told him he had nigh on passed out
, this time with pleasure. He gulped in air, desperate to make his lungs work. They felt as if someone had sat on them, and emptied them of wind, to leave him gasping like a codfish.

He slumped onto his lady for a brief second and then pulled back on to his shaking arms. The knowledge that he already thought of the unknown woman as his didn't worry him as much as he thought it would. Instead it filled him with a warm glow of satisfaction. Not since that one amazing night all those weeks ago had he felt so certain of anything. His lady
… his. If he were a cat he would have purred.

"I'm about to move," he warned her, and suited his actions to his words. The minute his cock was safely out of harm
's way, she slumped forward, her arms limply at her side.

"I am boneless
," she told him in a soft slur. "Nothing left in me. Not even the brandy."

Now he knew why she had been so compl
iant. She was as slewed as he was. Jittery darts of panic skittered up his spine. What if she hadn't been as compliant as he thought? He'd find out somehow, and pray that his worries were unfounded.

"Ah brandy
… I know it well. Wait there whilst I get a cloth." Her murmured agreement was enough for him. Somehow he thought this lady was someone who kept her word. Nevertheless, Nash didn't dally in his bathing chamber. He spent enough time to clean himself before gathering a dampened flannel and a towel and returning to the bedroom.

She hadn't moved a muscle, although she must have heard his footsteps because she waved one hand in his direction. "I'll do it."

"No," he corrected her. "I will. Roll over."

The lady hesitated, and Nash wondered if she was going to argue. She shrugged her shoulders, and rolled onto her back. "As you wish
, My Lord." She sounded resigned about something. Nash decided not to comment. Instead he lifted the skirts that she had pulled decorously over her knees, covering her body down to her garters.

"It's a bit late for modesty now
, love. I've played with your cunt, fucked you until they could hear you scream at the great house, and slapped your perfect ass until I hope it was rosy. We are past milksop maidenly attributes, surely?"

She sighed. "As you say. After such sensation and pleasuring as I have just experienced, there is no way I can pretend innocence nor would I wish to."

He waited but she said nothing else, and a small wry smile played around her lips.

"Lift you
r arse, so I can move your skirts. I'm sure you'd prefer to be fresh and not sticky?"

"I'm sure I would as well, but…" Her voice trailed off. "Ah
, why not." She lifted her body off the bed, and let him move her skirts to her waist. Before he had more than a brief glimpse of the curls he had ruffled and played with, she clenched her thighs together and covered her mound with her hands. Nash laughed.

"Too late, I've explored already." He climbed onto the bed and nudged her knees apart. "Let me do this for you.
It is part of my care, and my pleasure."

She nodded. "O
n your head be it, My Lord, on your head."

The way she spoke made him stop with the flannel just above her quim.

"So you do know who I am?"

"Not your name but otherwise? Yes, I do now."

He wiped her legs. "Then you have the edge on me." He waited for her to introduce herself. The last vestiges of his brandy fug had left him, and he realized how his behavior must seem to her. Had he forced himself on her? Made her perform acts that she thought despicable? Nash knew he was going to have to ask her, and he accepted that he didn't much like himself at that moment.

"Spread for me
, love. Let me remove anything I may have left upon you. I trust to god I withdrew in time, but sometimes, well sometimes it may not work." He let the cloth cover her cunt and then tease her curls. "I have to ask, did I force you in any way? Upset or disgust you?"

"Pardon?' she was startled. "Not at all
. Did you not hear my encouragement and my pleasure?"

"I thought so but I had to ask
. I paid scant notice to whether you were experienced or not. Indeed I confess I was so aroused, if you had told me you were a virgin, I'd've persuaded you not to be for a second longer." He lifted her skirts to her waist and moved the flannel to check she was clean and comfortable. Stared, and dropped the washcloth onto the floor.

She giggled. It was such an unexpected sound. "Now you know why I am no virgin
, My Lord. And why I enjoyed everything we did."

He could scarcely believe his eyes. "Madame Felice?"

Chapter Eight

Felicity leaned up on her elbows and looked at his shocked face. "As you say."

He cleared his throat. "But why?"

"Why what? Why am I Madame Felice or why am I here? Why did we have such a perfect night together, and then I disappeared?"

He scowled. "All of them. Oh wait until I find a lamp, I wish to see more of you."

She giggled. The situation might be grim, but to her the statement sounded silly. "My Lord, I don't think there's any of me you haven't seen. Then or now." Was this really her talking with such brazenness?

"Perhaps, so I'll modify that to I wish to see you more clearly." She watched as Nash lit a lamp and brought it closer. The bright light made her blink. It might mean he could see her better, but it also meant she could see him.
And he, she decided, was magnificent. His body was toned and muscled, with a fine sprinkling of dark hair on his chest that arrowed down to… Felicity swallowed. She didn't need to look to remember. He chuckled.

"No need for modesty between us. Explanations, yes, so would you like to go first
?"

Felicity swallowed. It had not been a question, and she guessed she had a lot of explaining to do. "Where to start?" Her throat was dry. "May I have a drink
, My Lord? Not brandy."

He gave a crack of laughter. "No, not brandy. There isn't any left here anyway. I have a jug of water, will that do?"

"Perfectly," Felicity said fervently. "I never want to see a bottle of brandy again. If I could blame it for my actions I would, but I have to admit, it played no part in it, except for sending me to sleep. Water would be exactly right, and if you have no glass, I'll drink it out of the jug." In fact, she thought one jug might not be enough to quench her thirst and put out the flames of need still burning inside her. It seemed once was never enough with this man. Not that she had anyone else to compare him with.

Nash left the room, and returned within minutes with a large glass jug and two glasses. He poured water and passed a drink to her before sitting back on the bed.

"If you're cold, cover yourself. I have a very good memory. Including the way we used the ink and needles intended to tattoo my pedigree hounds for security on ourselves instead. Why did you run?" In the brighter light his eyes seemed to bore into her. The dark orbs flashed gold and silver darts and held her as surely as a butterfly pinned onto a board.

Felicity took a sip of water to try and marshal her thoughts. She'd spent many a lonely hour wondering just what had prompted her to listen to a friend of Judith's and go to the masquerade. She could only be glad she had, even though she'd arrived late and left very early.

"It's a long story," she said slowly, and shivered. To her delight their nakedness didn't bother her at all, but the chill of an autumn dawn was beginning to get to her.

Nash looked at the coverlet and made a face.
"Fit for the fire. Ah well, it will give the servants something to talk about. Get under the blanket and I’ll join you." As she did as he asked, Nash gathered the silk up into a bundle and put in in the hearth. Felicity moved under the sheet and woolen blanket and watched as he used a candle to set the evidence of their release alight.

"You were saying?" he asked as he swung onto the bed and pulled her close to him. "It's a long story
? Maybe you need to condense it for now. The servants will be up and about soon. We need to know what we're going to do."

"They can't find me," Felicity said
, her voice rising as she contemplated that horror. They may know she was in the house; she didn't want them to find her in the master's bed. "I’d best leave now." She went to move. Nash stopped her by holding her arm. Even in her agitated state, his touch sent a surge of heat and safety through her. Dare she trust him? Felicity decided she had to—for then anyway. Who knew what might transpire?

"Who can't? Explain things to me. From the night of the masquerade. Why were you there?" Nash pulled her closer and put his arm around her shoulder. Felicity resisted for a brief second and he laughed softly. "Ah love, too late for that, you're mine and I'm yours and so we will be. Perhaps if I knew your name? You see
, you have me at an advantage. All I know is I met a masked beauty at the Gravesends’ masquerade. She took my breath and my soul. We spent one perfect night together, and pledged our allegiance with a tattoo. Then we slept in each other's arms. When I woke up, Madame Felice had gone and all I had left of her was inked on my groin. Oh and a lock of her hair, and not from her head."

"You kept my hair? Oh lud. Where?" Men didn't wear lockets. Felicity hazarded a guess
that her face was rosy, and it burned.

"In my ring." He waved his hand and she realized the ring on his right hand was a raised signet. "I had it made. I swear the jeweler thought it was a poison ring."

Felicity giggled. "What did you say?"

Nash raised his eyebrow. The autocratic gesture reminded her of someone. "I'm a Brigstock
. We don't explain."

Spots danced in front of Felicity's eyes and the room
spun. Now she knew who he reminded her of.

"A Brigstock?"
She rasped the words, and dug her nails into her hand in the hope the pain would stop her swooning.

"Of course." He sounded puzzled. "I thought you knew who I was. Nash Gretton, third son of the Earl of Brigstock."

That was what she feared. "Related to Peregrine?" She had to know.

"My elder brother, why?"

Felicity took a deep breath and willed herself not to be sick. Of all the cruel tricks fate could play. "Because My Lord, I am Lady Felicity Oakley."

"Lord Nash Gretton. Pleased to make your acquaintance, although I prefer Madame Felice."

He doesn't know. I have to tell him.

"Nash, I'm the woman your brother has decided will be his wife."

His arm tightened on hers and he twisted to look at her. "Over my dead body," he shouted.

That was what she was afraid of.

****

Nash stared at the trembling woman in front of him.
Damn it, I'm scaring her
. "Felicity, if I may call you that? Love, I'm sorry, I'm not angry with you. But neither will I let you marry my brother. You're mine. I love you…. Damn, I do. I've never said that before without an ulterior m..." He pulled himself up short. To his relief she giggled.

"I can get the gist
, My Lord. No need to go into details," she said. He let his breath out in one noisy whoosh. "But I am in a hard place. For whatever reason, both he and my papa think it a good match, even though I said no. They didn't listen. I came to see my cousin, she doesn't listen. I'm at a loss what to do. That's why you found me in your bed. Oh, I didn't know who lived here. I just had to leave Judith. I was told your brother was to visit and I would accept his offer. My father, Judith, and that blasted husband of her all seemed to think I would meekly comply. Your brother treats it as a
fait
accompli
. Nash, I cannot."

That was one sentiment he agreed with. "You cannot
. Believe me, you will not. We will do something. Talk to me about why Perry has chosen you. Then we will plot."

She shrugged, and took another sip of water. The ripples of her throat as she swallowed were enough to entice his cock to stand up and demand attention. He ignored it, and focused on Felicity. She handed him her empty glass and bit her lip.

"I think it is a plot my father and your brother have concocted. Something to do with smuggling and France? Oh lud, Nash, I'm hardly the person they confide in. What I have garnered is from listening when it is thought I'm not aware, and strangely, from that masquerade. I arrived late, and immediately Gussie pestered me. Why was I late, was Peregrine with me? When I said no, she seemed annoyed, and wanted to know where he was. Why should I know that? It was immaterial, because I wasn't interested in him, and I'd told Papa and him that several times. All I can say is it was like being in a box where no one could hear you. I was totally ignored and I went to the masquerade in defiance. On reflection, you know, I think she only asked me to attend to try and get information. And the worst thing was I had no idea what she wanted. Then I met you, and I couldn't care about anything else. Until I realized I had to leave." She was silent for a moment, and then shook her head. "Ah well, so what now? I can't be seen. For I will not go back and be forced to marry someone who has no interest in me. Not now."

Nash moved beside her once more. "No," he agreed. "Would you have before?"

She tilted her head to one side, considering his statement. "Not if I could have found a way not to. Not because I don't think Peregrine would be honorable, I know he would. But because we both deserve better." She looked so desolate that Nash knew there had to be something he could do.

"Gretna," he declared. "As soon as we can."