Taming Saffina Read online

  It was early evening when I finally broke away from my eager partners and started looking for Nigel in earnest. Most of the men in the company had already retired to the gaming tables, my guardian among them.

  Lord Endale was in his element, the center of an adoring crowd as he fleeced the local worthies at hazard. But Nigel was nowhere to be found.

  Finally I tracked him to the rose garden. His voice came from behind a bush. Pinching my cheeks for extra color, I peeked round a froth of fragrant pink blossom and froze.

  He was kissing someone. And as he pulled away, I saw it was that skinny Lady Susan.

  I could have wept. I almost shouted. I wanted to throw something, break a statue—anything to shatter their rosy, cozy little love nest.

  I clenched my jaw and spun round full of hate…and straight into my guardian.

  He’d appeared from nowhere, silent as a cat. I tried to push past but he held me fast.

  “What’s the matter? Your chosen swain’s chosen another?” He whispered too low for the lovers to hear.

  I was less cautious. “Let me go.” My anger shattered the silence. Instantly the sweet murmurings from the other side of the hedge turned to anxious mutters.

  “Who is it?”

  “Keep quiet and they’ll go away.”

  “See who it is.”

  At that moment Jacquard snatched my hat brim and bent it low, shielding us from sight. At the same moment, he captured my mouth with his own, pressing me to him with a strength that made me weak. He surged his tongue along mine, his hunger making my blood sing in my ears. He pinned me against him with such force that I felt his body heat all the way to my toes.

  The whisper came again. “It’s a pair of lovers. Quick, back to the house before they see us.”

  Jacquard ignored them. He kept his mouth firmly on mine. In truth, I’d hardly heard them either. The tremors pulsing through me made everything else fade into the background. With half an ear I strained to hear, but all I caught were their fading whispers as the guilty pair slipped away.

  As all fell quiet, Jacquard eased away for a second, his eyes dancing with sardonic amusement, leaving me breathless. “He’s as timid in love as he is at cards. He quit the tables before I’d even dealt his hand.”

  I tried to pull away but instantly he frowned.

  “You have more pressing pursuits, ma’am? We’ve not finished.”

  As my will melted and heat flared deep in my belly, he descended again, fiercer this time, his mouth urgent and hungry, his embrace even tighter. And now I felt something else—his cockstand—hard, hot and eager as he pressed it into my belly. It seemed to signal the same as his hungry tongue. It wants entry.

  As he released my mouth, he held me close, his eyes dark and unreadable. I leaned against him, weak with desire. The feel of his loins was so disturbing, his passion out here in the open so daring and so unexpected, that it made me yearn. I gazed up at him, limp in his arms, my lips parted, my will dissolved.

  “Have they gone?” His rich murmur sent a shiver through me, making me pulse.

  “Who?”

  And now a cynical twitch at the corner of his mouth warned me he’d won. This was simply a ruse to distract me from Nigel.

  Furious, I pulled away. “I understand your game, sir. Nigel can flirt where he likes. It means nothing. It’s me he wants.” I glanced down at my guardian’s trouser flap, bulging now. “We all know what gentlemen follow in affairs of the heart.”

  As I turned away, he clasped my arm, spinning me around.

  “Not so fast, ma’am. Your coarse remark is uncalled for. Somers may make his own choice, I presume? He’s made you no offer?”

  “Not in so many words, but he will.”

  His eyes narrowed. “We shall see.” With a sudden grin he landed a sharp slap on my rump. “Dance your fill, child. We leave in an hour.”

  To our appointment…in the Jade Room. As he strolled away, I felt a distinct throb from down below. The rest of the evening went by in a blur.

  * * * *

  We left well after sundown. In the carriage Jacquard watched me intently, his gaze hooded. “Did you observe his estate and draw any conclusions? Or did you merely dance?”

  I thought for a moment, frowning at such a serious question. “The servants seemed healthy and in good order. The party ran smoothly. The farm earns a modest income, I gather.”

  Jacquard snorted. “You took no notice of the ill-cut grass, the damp patch on one of the ceilings or the skinny livestock? Had you looked closer, you’d suspect a leaky roof and poor field management. Also, the farm is a tenancy. The land forms part of your estates. If he marries you, he acquires title.”

  I swallowed. “You mean he wants me for my money? I don’t believe it. He’s a respectable man.”

  Jacquard’s long mouth twitched at the corner. “Even respectable men can be greedy—and ambitious. No harm in that. I simply alert you to the facts.”

  In the courtyard Madame was waiting for us. Jacquard paused beside her. His low murmur chilled my blood.

  “Lady Saffina is required in the Jade Room in twenty minutes. You will see to it.”

  She eyed me with a sour gleam. “With pleasure, my lord.”

  Madame’s preparations surprised me a little, but I was too excited to protest. First she removed all my clothes then handed me a loose gown of flowing lace. I was a little shocked to see it revealed far more than it covered.

  She re-pinned my hair and touched up my rouge but removed all of my jewels. I was to wear heeled slippers, and finally she insisted I bend over low while she inserted a small sponge soaked in vinegar deep into my passage.

  I still stung a little from my deflowering but I controlled the urge to cry out. Irritated, I snapped at her instead. “Why are you doing this? It stinks.”

  “A simple protection, ma’am. I’ll spray a little more scent to cover the smell. You must always look your best for the Jade Room. Here. Something to soothe the sting. Apply it well.”

  She passed me an open pot of lavender oil, instructing me to ease the stuff deep into my passages and all through my pulsing, swollen folds. I shuddered as I did so. Even the presence of my stern governess failed to cool the glow of arousal that burned as I touched myself, recalling Jacquard’s merciless gaze while I did so on my last visit to the Jade Room.

  Now I felt uneasy. What will he do? I clenched my teeth. I’d heard the maids chatter about vinegar. It was to prevent a certain condition. The purpose of the oily creams in my private places I could only guess at.

  I was preparing for seduction. And if Lord Endale’s skills in that were as sophisticated as everything else about him, my lesson would be interesting.

  I entered the Jade Room with a pounding heart, knowing full well that I looked my best. As the door swung shut behind me I smelled once more a faint whiff of incense.

  The great chair where I’d lost my innocence was still in pride of place in the middle of the floor. This time two candelabras stood behind it, bathing it in light. The thick brocade still lay casually across the arms, freshly folded. I assumed to hide the stains.

  Still covering the seat.

  At that moment Jacquard emerged from behind a screen at the far end of the room. The sight of him stopped my breath.

  He was partly undressed. His dark, knee-length breeches were as tight and revealing as a fencer’s, showing his long, fine legs. His shirtsleeves were loosely folded back and pushed part way up his arms. I could see his neck above the ruffle of crisp linen that gaped open, revealing his chest. A tangle of dark hair contrasted sharply with the golden sheen of his skin. As his eyes swept over me, I felt a wave of heat, explicit and disturbing.

  “Welcome back to the Jade Room, my sweet. I trust you will find your session in here as pleasurable as I shall.” He walked up to me, took me in his arms and found my mouth, his tongue once more taking command, his arms once more pressing me close.

  This time he let his jutting erection leave no doubt o
f his intentions and his lust. I yielded willingly with no thought of anything but pleasure. I’d had hardships in my life. And pleasures were few.

  I’ll take whatever he gives. I deserve it.

  As he released me, he allowed his hands to linger, feeling me through the skimpy lace. I shivered as his sensual touch worked its magic.

  With a flick of his wrist and a hiss of silk, he whisked my flimsy gown away. “And now for tonight’s lesson.”

  As he spoke he lifted the heavy brocade away from the chair.

  Still languid from his kiss I turned…and froze.

  For the first time I saw what had lain hidden beneath the satin. This seat was no regular chair. The arms had study leather straps with strong buckles. The seat itself was flat, polished wood. In the middle of it two terrifying-looking columns of polished horn stuck upright, the one in front rather thick and tall, distinctly phallic, the one behind curved and slightly smaller.

  He stood close behind me, his hands still gripping my arms as he dropped a hot, moist kiss on my shoulder. His voice lowered to a silky murmur. “My latest acquisition, le siège de plaisir. The Seat of Pleasure. I had it brought over from Paris. We hid its secrets from you on your first visit, for obvious reasons. Now that you are a woman, you may enjoy it to the full. Sit.”

  Chapter Seven

  Sitting—normally so easy, suddenly so complicated.

  “How, sir?” I stared at him, lost.

  “The usual way. Spread your knees and bend.” With a cynical smile, Jacquard slipped his hand deep between my legs.

  I writhed as he explored my glories, wide open at his command and slippery now with Madame’s lotions. His gliding, sensual touch made me shudder. I moaned with pleasure as he slipped his slick digits easily in and out, probing farther and farther in—everywhere.

  “Perfect.” He fingered me firmly, willing me to yield. “Madame has prepared you well. Now sit, child, and we’ll begin.”

  “Must I?” The thing looked terrifying. Our game was fast becoming torment.

  “You must. Or are you afraid?” His eyes narrowed, his handsome mouth curling at the corner. He was teasing?

  Ah. That changed things. If he was teasing, we were still at play. Torment or not, this was still a game. And by now I knew him well enough to know where his games always led—unimaginable pleasure.

  The trouble was, in these games only he knew the rules.

  “Me? Afraid? Never.”

  His lazy, sultry smile was all I needed. Holding my gaze, he pushed me down, his eyes full of heat. As the vile horn shafts pushed obscenely into me, I sighed deeply, overcome at being so disgracefully filled. He looked on, his gaze rapt.

  I sensed every detail of my pleasure mattered to him. It was a solemn moment, like we were starting out on a journey both of us would enjoy…

  When my backside finally touched the wooden seat, he let out a long sigh. He smiled and kissed me again, slipping his hand down to my opening, stretched tight and nearly numb from excitement, my thighs quivering from the forced, unnatural pose. His hand eased underneath me, exploring me fully, his delicate touch making me whimper. Already I threatened to peak.

  Now all I felt was enormous pressure deep inside. The horn obscenities filled me up, stretched me taut. I was impaled, helpless and rigid. My thighs tingled as the pressure in my belly consumed my senses, throbbing in my slit, flaring in my tiny, exposed bud.

  His quiet laugh stirred more fire. Shame flared in my cheeks, my heavy breasts and my groin as his teasing, questing touch edged me ever closer to climax.

  But just as I thought I should come, he pulled his fingers away with a cruel smile.

  As if he knows.

  He’d done this before—and often. The thought was new to me, and as disturbing as his touch. He is an expert.

  He knew how I’d feel. I could barely guess.

  “Easy, child. The seat is very demanding. Breathe deeply or you’ll peak too soon. Fend it off if you can. You’ll come all the harder.” He stooped down to touch his lips to mine. “You’ll find it well worth the wait.” He straightened up again. “Comfortable?”

  “Hardly the word for it, sir,” I panted, throbbing now, desperate for his touch. A new gleam in his eyes warned he knew this too.

  My impalement arouses him.

  A new idea…and newly disturbing.

  “Is this is a punishment?”

  His eyes narrowed. “Do you deserve one?”

  I saw the bulge in his breeches stir and twitch. I throbbed again.

  He wants me to ask for one?

  I bit my lip as wicked possibilities flitted before me. “I flirted during the dancing, sir. Nothing wrong with that, I hope?” I glanced up at him through my lashes.

  He shook his head, his gaze stern. “Flirting was the least of it. You were rude to Lady Carstairs. You called her son an oaf when he trod on your gown. You offended at least three wives and shocked the rest by stealing dances and kisses from their husbands. You finished the last of the trifle by pushing in front of Somers’ cousin and snatching his plate. Personally I found your antics amusing, if a little uncouth. Here in the country they’d pass for fun. Normal, even, from one of your rank. But at court, they’d cause offense. So we’ll call this…a correction.”

  He was strapping my arms to the chair as he spoke. Now he walked over to the ornate chest of drawers and took out what looked like a forest of leather strips. “This, perhaps, will give you a taste of what to expect in here.”

  My heart sank. I felt a spike of real fear, and with it, hot arousal. He walked slowly back toward me, the leather strands sliding softly through his long fingers.

  “This is a flogger,” he murmured. “I’ll use it on your breasts. First we must arouse your tits for you to feel the full effect.”

  He began to knead and tweak my nipples, making me shudder. Soon his fingers grew so harsh that I nearly cried out.

  His eyes gleamed. “I should add it also intensifies things for me. Pink, swollen and jutting nipples simply cry out for attention.”

  Applying Madame’s lotion had aroused me almost to frenzy earlier. My sensitive breasts were growing rosy from excitement. Now, under his eager, controlling fingers, they seemed to swell. They bulged in his firm, squeezing hands, his touch sending me wild.

  Helpless and impaled, my belly rippling with arousal, I whimpered with emotion. “Why are you doing this?”

  The ends of the whip trailed over my breasts and upward toward my neck. Each little strand traced a teasing, feathery line over my skin, sensual and powder-soft, making me ache. I shuddered again, finding it hard to meet his gaze.

  His eyes gleamed as he sensed my distress. “Because I like it. And I want to know if you like it too.”

  “And if I don’t?”

  He pushed the whip under my chin, forcing me to look up. “Then we stop.”

  He stepped behind me. Now the strands whispered over my shoulders and along my back. I closed my eyes, giving myself up to the faint, feathery strokes, light as thistledown, menacing as spiders. Waves of numbness shivered all the way down the backs of my legs.

  “Normally I would blindfold you for this. Darkness and privacy intensify the feeling.” His low murmur made me tingle.

  I closed my eyes to savor his finger-light touch as he pushed back some stray curls escaping from my piled hair. I parted my lips with a sigh as he kissed me, his lips hot along the side of my neck.

  “But I want you to watch. I want you to see what I’m doing to you. Open your eyes.”

  Now I sensed a change in his manner. He seemed to grow taller, more powerful. His look grew stern and remote. With a sudden flick of his wrist, he let fly.

  The lashes landed across both my breasts, flicking round and underneath, licking into crevices under my arms and scoring across my stiffened, jutting nipples. The stings were instant and sharp but I gasped more from surprise than the pain.

  He paused a moment and flicked again from the other side. Once more the st
ings consumed me, my fear already fading in the new heat burning deep in my slit.

  If Madame’s cane was arousing, this was a hundred times worse. Jacquard’s whip fully echoed his powerful touch, the stinging, merciless lashes an extension of his will. As the blows rained down, he prowled around me like a hungry panther, his dark eyes burning into mine, seeking out my weakness.

  Did he want me to cry out? To beg? I gritted my teeth, determined to do neither. Pleasure would only come when I did. And if he refused to let me then I’d finish myself. I needed barely the flick of a finger to gain my release.

  At last he paused for breath.

  I felt myself color as he glanced down at the clear evidence of my arousal pooling on the seat below my quivering thighs.

  He smiled, already sensing victory. “You like this?”

  I was sweating from the effort of keeping silent. My breasts were on fire. I was helpless, filled and impaled.

  Like it?

  I managed a bitter smile, hauling in deep breaths, letting my excitement build, riding the tide to the climax I craved. “I’d like it more if you’d let me come, sir.”

  His sudden grin filled me with hope. We are still at play.

  Now his voice was gentle. “You trust me, child?”

  “Yes, sir. And I’m no child. Had you forgotten? You made me a woman.”

  A strange look came over his face. The whip clattered to the floor as he released one of my arms from its restraint. “Very well, you’ve earned your treat. First, let me stroke these. So hot and full. So beautiful.”

  He stooped and took each heavy breast in his mouth in turn, sucking hard, licking and teasing my nipples with his lips, the tip of his tongue and sharp, eye-watering nips of his teeth. He sucked again as he kneaded them with his hands, his powerful mouth making them ache.

  I threw back my head and closed my eyes, letting their harsh glow bloom fully under his firm, disturbing touch. The feel of his hungry mouth plunged straight down to my tormented groin, making me throb almost to numbness.