Clenching her fists against the bed, she heard the slicking again. Slowly at first, then faster. When a stifled grunt came from the floor, she realized she wasn’t imagining it. So much for respecting her rules. The arsehole was polishing his damned knob right there on her bedroom floor!
Ready to leap out of bed, she rethought. Slipping out as quietly as possible, she took a candle and flint and rounded the bed. Placing the candle on the chest of drawers, she lit it and pounced, flinging the bedclothes off Luke.
Sure enough, he lay there gaping at her, head off the pillow, cock in one hand, the other still by his shoulder in the cuff, undergarments around his thighs. His abdominal muscles were in sharp relief from his efforts, bisected by aTof chestnut hair running between his nipples then down. She took a moment to admire him, making sure she gave nothing away in her expression.
“What did I say about waking me?”
His eyes were hot as they perused her top to bottom. Relaxing back against the pillow, he gave a languid tug on his cock with a smirk. “Technically, you said not to wake you with roaming. I could not sleep with this—” He gestured downward with his head as though daring her to look again. “That left me to resolve the situation.”
“This is not acceptable.” She cocked a hip, placing a hand on it to glare at him. In fact, nothing about this night was acceptable. He was not going to attain his peak when she could not enjoy hers. It was her room and her house, damn it. Perhaps she could indulge with him, though...
“Come now, Belle,” he purred, using the name she’d warned him he’d have to earn the right to. “You cannot tell me a gentleman has never engaged in self-pleasure in this room. Or do you do all the work all the time?”
That doused her arousal as nothing else could. Of course, the young lord thought it was acceptable to do what he liked in a courtesan’s bedroom, without asking her leave. She glared, her lips tight when she replied, “Never—neverhas a gentleman engaged in such an act without ensuring my pleasure first, or without my consent. Now button it up.”
“Please, Belle? Put me out of my misery?”
She gasped.
“Er, I meant allow me to put myself out of my misery? If you had any idea how long it’s been since I’ve been this hard, this interested...” He trailed off and looked away, embarrassed.
She glanced down. When his cock pulsed in his grip and his hand slid up and down again, she glared at him again, a muscle clenching along her jaw.
He shrugged. “Sorry. You were looking; it was automatic.”
“Put it away. You have not earned privacy. Until you do, you live with the restrictions I choose. And pleasuring yourself on my floor is one of them.”
He tucked himself into his smallclothes with a sigh. “I hope you can sleep. I doubt I will. But damn, that felt good. Thank you, Isabella.”
The cad had the audacity to smile.
Her sexual frustration-tinged anger led her to snap open a drawer, grab another cuff and slap it around his second wrist. The straps from the first that kept him tethered to the bed had space for her to attach the second cuff. Now both his hands were forced to remain well above his waist, but he could still sleep on his back or one side. He’d have to make do.
Stomping back around the bed, she snuffed the candle and slid beneath the covers. As soon as she closed her eyes, her body betrayed her, conjuring his rod of iron against his belly. Knowing what it looked like without covering only fanned the flames flickering up and down her spine. The same oiled handthat had worked magic on her feet fisted his cock, sliding up and down. She rolled to her side and punched her pillow.
He sighed and shifted.
She circled her legs against the sheets, feeling her damp folds rub against each other. The silk of her nightrail teased her tightly furled nipples.
An insidious thought wormed its way into her head. Her house, her rules. Just because he couldn’t take himself over didn’t mean she couldn’t. And she could do it much quieter.
Rolling onto her stomach, she cupped a breast in one hand, squeezing the hard point. The other slid between her legs, dragging silk up one handful at a time. Finally, she could touch her core. She fluttered her fingers against her swollen lips first, trying to wait a few more minutes in hopes Luke fell asleep.
After a long minute of torturing herself with feathery touches, he’d been silent long enough she deemed it safe to proceed. Threading three fingers between her lips, she slid them along her hot hard flesh, dipping the middle one into the pool of wetness at her opening.
She pressed her lips together to muffle a moan and retracted the dampened finger to rub circles around her raised nub. Thrusting two fingers into her wet channel, she used her thumb to squeeze and roll that now-damp hard kernel. She daren’t piston her fingers, not wanting a slicking sound to give her away, but she could not stop the tiny jerking surges of her hips.
A vision of his stomach muscles and that narrow trail of hair leading to his cock flashed in her mind. A flush of heat ran over her from head to toe. Her stomach muscles tightened and her hips lost their rhythm. Her imagination recalled his cock pulsing and his hand sliding along it.
Panting quietly, she pinched her nipple and her thumb squashed her sensitive flesh. Her inner walls convulsed around her fingers, a rush of hot liquid drenching her hand. She bit herpillow to stop from keening as her nipple and clitoris throbbed against her hold on them.
Wishing it were him bathing her in hot liquid, she arched her back to press into the sheets, wiggling her thumb to extend the storm of ecstasy raging through her. Sparks of pleasure zipped through her limbs, fading slowly to embers as her hips relaxed against the bed. She flinched with sensitivity as she extracted her hand from underneath her.
Sighing in relief, she drifted to sleep.
Chapter Ten
Luke swirled ina maelstrom of ecstasy and agony all night.
