Page 6 of Chloe and the Devil (Regency Spinsters Alliance #2)

CHAPTER SIX

Lucien knew his anger was justified. Chloe had more than deserved her punishment.

What he had not been prepared for was having to breathe in the heady aroma of Chloe’s arousal every time he now drew air into his lungs.

Which, in turn, caused his own treacherous cock to engorge and rise inside his pantaloons. Something he knew would become more apparent, and so easier for Chloe to discern, the longer he kept her pressed over his thighs.

And yet Lucien was reluctant to change their position.

Because he liked having the warmth of Chloe’s body lying across his thighs. Relished having his hand resting on the curve of the burning and punished flesh beneath her drawers.

A part of him dearly wanted to unfasten those drawers so that he might admire and appreciate the visible evidence of seeing his own handprints on that plump flesh. He wanted to touch as well as see the moisture between her thighs. To seek out and caress the swollen nubbin he knew to be hidden above. He wanted to do all those things until Chloe became a wild thing in his arms as she pleaded and begged him to give her the release she craved.

“Lucien!”

His name was not the begging or plea he ached for, but an admonishment. Causing him to drag his gaze away from that tempting bottom to turn and look at Chloe. Her cheeks were flushed, blue eyes overbright, her ruby-red lips slightly parted.

Because she was upset?

Or angry?

Or because of that arousal?

Oh God…!

Lucien had believed himself to be a man always in control of his emotions. At least, in the past, he had been a man who was always in control. That was not now the case when it came to Chloe. Not since the moment he kissed her four months ago.

But knowing Chloe was now as aroused as he was, he wasn’t sure he could withstand?—

“Let me up, you—you unmitigated bastard!”

Lucien reared his head back in surprise at hearing Chloe use such language toward him.

He knew he could and did behave like a bastard, if the situation warranted it. But he did not believe he had ever behaved as one with Chloe.

Until now?

Just because he believed her spanking to be merited did not mean Chloe agreed with that draconian opinion. Her angrily voiced insults said that she did not.

Which in no way lessened the reason for his own anger at what he considered to be her reckless—no, her dangerous , behavior.

So much so, he did not believe she had yet been punished enough.

Instead of letting her up, Lucien tightened an arm across her back and landed several more smacks on her bottom in quick—and hopefully painful—succession.

“Bastard! Villian! Beast! Monster!” Each of those accusing words had followed Chloe having received another blow to her bottom.

Lucien continued to spank her until she lay unmoving and silent across his thighs, her breathing ragged. Not because she was crying. Because she wasn’t. What?—

Lucien stilled as he became fully aware of how overwhelming the perfume of Chloe’s arousal had become. A heady combination of her female musk and the floral-smelling soap she must use to bathe with.

Being so lost in the euphoria of breathing in that heady scent, Lucien knew his earlier self-admonishments to resist had been useless when he could no longer stop himself from touching that arousal for himself. He sought out the slit in Chloe’s drawers and pushed his fingers inside.

“Lucien…?” Chloe spoke his name softly, with uncertainty, rather than as a protest.

Lucien made no reply as he closed his eyes and concentrated on stroking the wetness of her channel and swollen pussy lips, before his now-slick fingers caressed a path that led directly to the erect nubbin above.

Chloe gasped, her back straightening as she halfway lifted off his thighs the moment Lucien touched that sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Stay still,” he instructed gruffly at the same time as he placed two of his fingers either side of the erect bud, stroking up and down it as if it were a tiny penis.

“Lucien…!” This time, Chloe’s cry of his name was an aching entreaty. “Please,” she begged. “Please!”

As she was an innocent, Lucien doubted Chloe knew exactly what she was pleading for, but instinct alone had her pressing her clit more urgently against the stroke of his fingers.

Her release, when it came seconds later, was so powerful, her whole body convulsed. The nubbin between Lucien’s fingers pulsed and throbbed as he ensured Chloe experienced every last drop of that pleasure.

She remained draped across his thighs for several more minutes, no doubt exhausted from the force of her release, but also, he suspected, because, like him, she had no idea what to do next.

Lucien would like to say he felt an overwhelming sense of guilt for having touched her so intimately. He would like to, but unfortunately, his fiercest emotion at the moment was satisfaction in having pleasured Chloe to her explosive release.

No doubt those feelings of guilt would come later. When he was no longer in the presence of the young woman who made him forget any and all objections he might normally have voiced against the two of them being intimate together.

He felt absolutely no satisfaction when, having pulled down the skirt of her gown before upending her and placing her on the seat next to him, he heard her pained gasp the moment her bottom made contact with the padded seat.

“You are a monster!” she immediately accused again as she shifted, trying to find a comfortable position in which to sit, her face averted from having to look at him.

An embarrassment Lucien perfectly understood, fully aware that he should not have taken her arousal to that earth-shattering conclusion.

Except he could not feel sorry for having done so. Not when it had given him such pleasure to give her that release.

But it would not do, of course. Should never have happened. Could never happen again. Which meant he must ensure Chloe was not deceived into thinking otherwise.

“And you are a reckless brat,” Lucien reminded. “As proven by your behavior of roaming London’s dark streets alone at night and then making an assignation with me in my rose garden with the intention of involving me in one of your misadventures,” he ground out between gritted teeth as his anger resurfaced at the memory of those deeds. “You should have had your arse spanked far more often when you were a child.”

She glared. “Papa never spanked me?—”

“An oversight I assure you I am more than happy to correct. At any time, day or night, I deem it necessary to do so,” Lucien added grimly.

* * *

Much as her bottom stung, the pain now radiating throughout the whole of Chloe’s body as she failed to find a way in which she could sit without causing herself more discomfort, Chloe was more deeply ashamed of the physical pleasure she had experienced from the chastisement. A humiliating response Lucien had taken full advantage of?—

No!

It was unfair of her to accuse Lucien of having done any such thing. It had been her arousal followed by her responses which had resulted in their intimacy. The same responses which were also now responsible for her feelings of humiliation.

But she refused to cry, especially in front of Lucien. She had already embarrassed herself enough where this man was concerned.

Tonight aside, she would never be able to look at a sprig of mistletoe again without those feelings of embarrassment resurfacing. She also knew she would never experience the joy of Christmas again without remembering being kissed by and then as quickly rejected by Lucien.

Yes, she had initiated that encounter. But knowing that had only added to her humiliation when Lucien so soundly rejected her the moment they both heard her father’s sure tread as he ascended the staircase.

Having Lucien spank her this evening as if she were nothing more than the recalcitrant child he so obviously thought her to be, and for her to have responded in such a wholly adult way, was even more humiliating than his rejection after kissing her several months ago had been.

Telling Chloe that it was time she gave up all hope of ever having Lucien see her as the beautiful and accomplished woman she hoped she had become. That she must accept that to him, she would never be anything more than the slightly irritating daughter of his lifelong best friend.

A view Lucien would realize she didn’t share in regard to him, if he found the journal and read its contents!

There was no reason why he should read it, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t. Everyone who was acquainted with Lucien, in whatever capacity, knew him to be a law unto himself.

Chloe straightened her spine, her gaze fixed steadily across the carriage rather than on the man sitting beside her. She held her chin high as she informed him, “I do not believe I will need your help after all in finding the missing journal.” It really would be too humiliating to even be in his company again if he were ever to read those increasingly erotic fantasies.

He gave a dismissive huff. “Whether you require it or not, you are most certainly in need of it.”

She turned to look at him coldly. “And I am telling you I am sorry to have bothered you and now refuse your help.”

He scowled. “How else do you intend to locate and have this journal returned to you?”

“I am sure I can find someone else who would be willing to offer me assistance in the endeavor?—”

“The same rakish young-gentleman-someone whom you persuaded into delivering your letter to me this evening?” Lucien accused.

“Of course not.” Chloe had no idea of that young man’s name, let alone his whereabout. Even if she did, she would not have approached him or asked for his assistance. This situation was far too serious, too intimately personal to her, for her to even think of involving a virtual stranger in her dilemma.

No, despite what Chloe had decided earlier to the contrary, she now believed she had no other choice but to discuss this sorry business with the other members of the Spinsters Alliance.

But first, they would have to agree not to let Lily in on the secret. It would be unfair of Chloe to expect the other woman to keep that knowledge from her future husband, who also happened to be Chloe’s father.

“Hopefully, someone who will not berate and then spank me as if I am a child,” she added bitterly.

“What followed was not the result of my thinking of you as a child,” he grated.

Her chin rose. “We will not speak again of what happened next.”

“Chloe—”

“My name is Lady Chloe Lord,” she cut in icily. “I suggest that in future, you address me as such.”

“I most certainly will not.”

“Then you will find yourself speaking to no one, because I shall not respond to anything else you choose to call me.”

* * *

Lucien’s only thought at that moment was that Chloe truly was magnificent.

A veritable queen amongst women.

Elegance personified.

As dignified as if she truly was royalty.

She was also a siren call to every one of Lucien’s senses.

Because he couldn’t stop looking at her. Breathing in her heady perfume. Remembering the taste of her. Recalling the pleasure of touching the pure silk of her skin. Of stroking his fingers against the wetness of her nubbin. Nor could he forget the soft and throaty groans Chloe gave when her passions were aroused and then so forcefully released.

So unlike her gasps of outrage a short time ago when he threw her over his thighs and spanked her!

Thinking of all that made him wince, and he could only acknowledge that Chloe’s unchaperoned presence truly had rendered him as being slightly unsane. What other explanation could he possibly give for having first treated her so abysmally and then touching her so intimately?

The cold glitter in her pale blue eyes as she stared at him told him that she certainly did not forgive him for it.

A nerve pulsed in his jaw as he spoke. “I apologize for my behavior just now. I should not have treated you so roughly, nor taken advantage of that situation when I became aware of your arousal.”

Her eyes widened slightly, no doubt at his unexpected apology, before her cheeks blushed a fiery red. But otherwise, she gave no outward sign of relenting in her haughty disdain. “Your apology is not accepted,” she told him icily. “You—” She broke off as the carriage came to a halt, leaning forward to open the curtain enough to look outside. “This is the back of St. Albans House.”

He nodded. “I instructed my groom to drive us here after you told me you wished to enter the house through the kitchen.”

Her lashes lowered. “Thank you.”

Lucien reached out to place his hand on one of her slender wrists as she edged forward with the obvious intention of opening the door and alighting from the carriage. “I do apologize most sincerely, Chl— Lady Chloe,” he immediately corrected when she glared. “Be assured, if I acquire any information regarding the missing journal, I will contact you immediately.”

She raked her cool blue gaze over him, from his uncovered dark hair to the tips of his highly polished boots. “As I have said, please do not trouble yourself to act on my behalf, Your Grace. I am sure, as you are to stand witness at my father’s side at the wedding on Saturday, that you will have far more important duties to occupy your precious time in the few days remaining than offering your help in searching for the journal of the silly young woman who should have known better than to ask you for it.”

His fingers tightened about her wrist. “Chloe?—”

“I have said we will never speak of this incident again. In fact, I can think of nothing more I ever wish to say to you,” she bit out. “Now, if you will excuse me, I want to return to the safety and comfort of my father’s house.”

In other words, Lucien accepted, as he had no choice but to release her when his groom opened the door for her to step down, Chloe did not now consider him to represent any form of safety or comfort for her.

An opinion he knew he fully deserved and had brought upon himself by his own actions.