Impossible Desires (novella) Page 7
“No, you were perfect. Exactly what I needed.”
Gareth’s heart lifted.
“Then why were you crying like your heart was breaking?”
Eleanor wiped at the tear tacks on her cheeks and sniffed loudly. She was slowly coming back into herself, he could see it.
Where were his pants? She needed a handkerchief.
“I don’t think I cried once in all the years with my husband. You released everything in me that has wanted to get out. You gave me everything that he never did.”
His cheeks flushed with heat. What was he going to say to that? She unmanned him with one sentence, and she didn’t need a whip.
She sat straighter in his lap, rubbing across the sensitive head of his cock. Wincing, he shifted her in his lap.
She looked up and he saw the fire, bright as ever.
“Don’t think I’ll hand control over to you all the time though. This was wonderful, but I like being on top.”
The pleasure her words brought was so unexpected and so reassuring that he couldn’t help but grin.
“Of course Mistress, but I like my top time too.”
The smile Eleanor gave him was one he would never forget. They crawled into bed and rested for the day.
*****
In the carriage on the way home, Eleanor realized she had to find out which one Gareth preferred. Could she give him power all the time if he decided that was what he wanted?
She had taken a chance on him initially, knowing how dominant a person he was in everyday life. Would he regret his submission to her now that he had a taste of the power? She had to find out.
“Gareth?”
His brown eyes turned to her quickly, a question posed there already.
“Yes, my love?”
Eleanor had to swallow down the lump in her throat when he called her that. He had never said that he loved her, but his actions spoke much louder than any words not said.
“I need to know how you felt during our playtime today.”
His face transformed into a veritable god. His eyes lit up, and his smile was breathtaking. She was in trouble.
“I loved every single minute of it. Except when you burst into tears.”
Eleanor swallowed again.
“So you prefer being the Master then?”
A furrow deepened in his brow, his eyes showing worry.
“Why are you asking, Eleanor? I thought we had agreed to share the role.”
Grasping onto the plush cushions released some of her stress, but she needed to hear the words from him.
“We did, but I need to know what you prefer. I don’t think I can be submissive all the time.”
He burst out laughing.
Although it was a beautiful sight to behold, Eleanor felt it like a slap to the face. She was baring her soul and he was laughing at her. She dropped her eyes to her lap, bringing her hands into the folds of her skirt so he couldn’t see the way they were clenched into fists.
“Eleanor, look at me.”
She looked up, still angry.
“Do you remember when I knelt behind you and licked you until you were about to come?”
Eleanor flushed and nodded. She never found it embarrassing to talk about such things when she was in Mistress mode, but she was feeling vulnerable today. Not like her at all.
“The reason I did that was because I want to serve you. If it gives you the most pleasure to dominate me in the bedroom, then we can do that most of the time. My orgasms are always better when you have control of me, and the intensity is intoxicating.”
Her heart soared and a smile started to stretch across her lush mouth.
“So you will allow me to be your Mistress?”
Gareth scooped her up and placed her in his lap. She ran her hands over his broad shoulders and squeezed him tight.
“I want you to be my Mistress all the time. I get more pleasure from it and it is also a relief to forget myself, to let someone else be in charge for a while. So much of my life is stressful. My responsibilities are many and far-reaching. But when you have me tied up and at your mercy, I don’t need to worry about a thing because I know you will take care of me.”
Love swelled within her breast as though it were a flower waking to the sun on a cold morning. He was everything she had ever wanted in her life.
“Gareth, thank you.”
His gaze turned serious and she stopped smiling.
“Though I would like an occasional turn like today, I would also like the control in our life. You can rule the bedroom, and I will rule the world outside.”
Eleanor smiled, knowing full well she would contribute to almost every decision they made in their life, but she would let him think he had control.
“Until we switch?”
Gareth laughed and leaned forward to kiss her.
Their lips meshed and their tongues slid over each other in slow exploration.
“Yes, my love. Until we switch.”
Chapter 10
“Osborne.” Patrick’s voice filled the air around him just before Gareth felt a clap on his shoulder.
“How have you been, Osborne? I haven’t seen you around the normal jaunts in weeks.” Patrick raised his eyebrows in question, and sat down opposite Gareth. He looked as handsome as ever yet Gareth saw nothing but the shadows behind his eyes.
“I haven’t been visiting the normal jaunts.”
He had clenched his teeth together without knowing it, so he carefully relaxed them again. Why was he getting upset? It was only Patrick.
“I have been spending a lot of time with Lady Eleanor Rossette. In both London and at her country estate.” Gareth set his cards down and stared at his oldest friend as he saw shock and anger flit across his face. Why was that?
“I didn’t realize you two were close.”
Gareth knew the time had come to be honest, with himself and his friends. He had known her less than a month but he knew that he could never love anyone the way he loved her – no matter how unconventional their relationship.
“I intend to marry her.”
It felt good to say it out loud. He hadn’t mentioned anything to her yet, but considering their conversation about how they would handle their future, he assumed she knew how he felt.
Gareth’s best friend stared at him in amazement.
“You want to marry her? You have to be jesting. You’re tupping her, aren’t you?”
Gareth jerked and had to squash the impulse to throw his whiskey at his friend. Was this what love felt like? All-consuming jealousy and territorialism?
Gareth nodded, struggling to act calm when he was so angry. He didn’t lie particularly well and he couldn’t deny what he and Eleanor had been up to.
“Then why marry her? She’s giving it for free.”
Gareth inhaled sharply and rubbed his wrist in a jerky fashion.
“I don’t want anyone else.”
Patrick grunted, unimpressed.
“If you have to marry, pick one of those little virgins that they parade around every night. At least you know she’ll be faithful – for the first year or two.” Patrick laughed at his own joke and Gareth gripped the table with both hands. How dare he insinuate that Eleanor wouldn’t be faithful. Just because she had made love to him before they married didn’t mean she would cuckold him.
“I have very particular tastes, Patrick. You know that. Eleanor meets every one of them.”
Patrick eyed him strangely, envy creeping into his flushed face. He had always wondered if Patrick had particular tastes too.
“Are you telling me that Eleanor enjoys sex?”
Gareth flushed with rage and embarrassment. Of course she enjoyed sex, but he wouldn’t tell Patrick that.
“She gives me exactly what I need, Patrick. That’s all you need to know.”
Patrick huffed arrogantly and leaned back in his chair, a malicious gleam lighting up his blue eyes. “So you want to marry someone who acts like a whore? Are you kidding me, Ga
reth?”
He was out of his chair before he realized it. His hands reached out and hauled Patrick to his feet, pulling him close so that he could speak directly into his face.
“Say that again and I’ll rip your goddamn throat out.”
His friend’s face paled before he reached for Gareth’s hands.
“Let go of me, Gareth.”
“I’m serious, Patrick. Say that again about Eleanor and you will not live to see tomorrow.”
He allowed the man to pull free, his breathing erratic. His hands were clenched into fists at his side and he was shaking. He had never been so angry. He wanted to actually hurt his friend.
“What is wrong with you? I’m trying to help you.”
“You are not. You’re jealous and spiteful. I’ve found someone who can keep me happy Patrick when I thought I would never find someone who suited me. How can you not be happy for me?”
“What if she can’t breed? She was married to that baron for three years without a child.”
Gareth shrugged. He knew of many ladies who didn’t conceive for years into their marriage. The fact that her husband had taken her against her will on multiple occasions wouldn’t have increased her chances either.
“That’s a risk you take with any new bride.”
“Yes, but Lady Rossette is older and already tried.”
Gareth slammed his clenched fist down on the table making his friend jump.
“I love her. I want no other. Why won’t you accept this?”
Patrick shrugged, bitterness entering his voice, “I thought you could do better.”
Gareth was so horrified he stood motionless for a moment. He wanted to spit in disgust. Better? Impossible.
Gareth walked out of his club without bowing at his oldest friend or looking back.
*****
Patrick’s words tortured Gareth for days. If his oldest friend thought Eleanor wasn’t good enough for him, what would the rest of society think? He had never particularly cared what people thought of him, but he valued his family’s name. His father’s name…his mother’s name. His sister had caused enough scandal in her short time out in society, and the last thing he needed to do was cause more.
Eleanor sent him notes inviting him to dine with her and even dropped by to call on him – an unprecedented move by his Mistress. A week ago he would have been jumping for joy. Now however, he couldn’t bring himself to see her or answer her missives and the guilt was almost paralyzing him.
How could he explain what he was going through? Their month was almost up and he had to decide what he wanted very soon. He had thought that he knew what he wanted, but now he was questioning it.
Did he want a traditional wife? Should he choose a simpering little English rose as a wife and keep his fiery, passionate woman as his mistress?
How had Patrick managed to turn an asset of Eleanor’s into a fault? He had always loved the fact that she suited him perfectly in the bedroom, but now all he could think about was the fact that Patrick had likened her to a whore.
Any normal English gentleman would marry a young virgin – it was what Patrick had expected of him. He was meant to have an untouched bride – but why? So that he could say he had a virgin? Blood on their wedding night? Did he want a marriage based on bloodlines, money, and breeding? No! Why should he do that when the woman he wanted was a true lady, marriageable, and wanted him?
It was unusual for a man of his standing to marry a widow. If Eleanor could not bear him a son then his line would pass to a distant cousin. But what he had said to Patrick had been true – you took that chance with any woman you married.
And Eleanor was a lady, a well-bred lady. She had money, status and beauty. Any man would be lucky to have her as his wife. So why was he hesitating?
He knew they got along well together, both in the bedroom and out of it. So why was he second-guessing himself now? If he was honest, it was because of how perfect everything was. Could it continue? Should he risk it? Such a risk would reap huge rewards, but it also caused his heart to shrink in fear.
His arrogant side came to the forefront of his mind when such a thought struck him. What on God’s green Earth was he worrying about?
Every man he had ever met detested or only tolerated their wife.
He had a chance to be happy, truly, down to the tips of his soul happy, and he was balking at it? Not on his life.
He would see Eleanor as soon as possible and clear the air. He may have to grovel, he may have to crawl across fire, but he would enjoy doing it if it meant keeping her forever.
*****
The following evening, Gareth was in high spirits. He had discovered that Eleanor would be at Lady Coleman’s ball and he dressed accordingly. He wanted Eleanor and would propose marriage as soon as it was feasible. Perhaps she would reward him with something special in their bedroom that night? Or maybe she would punish him? He shivered at the memory of the feel of her riding crop.
Gareth paced the ballroom as he waited for her arrival. Maybe he should have gone to her house to explain rather than met her at a ball?
“Lady Rossette and His Grace, the Duke of Commody.”
Gareth felt his stomach lurch as he turned to watch Eleanor walk into the room on the arm of the most eligible man in London. The Duke of Commody was wealthy and more than five years Gareth’s senior. He was also handsome and in the market for a wife. The little witch couldn’t have found a man more suitable to make him jealous – she knew him too well.
Gareth shook with rage. He used every bit of strength he had to continue to look calm, but inside he was raging.
Eleanor was wearing one of the most daring dresses he had ever seen on her. Red silk, the dress dropped dangerously low in the front. The French designs were popular throughout London, but he had never seen such a dress on her. To say she was stunning was an understatement. Her breasts swelled up over the neckline, her beautiful collarbones on display, and her hair was swept up in an elegant chignon with only a feather as adornment.
She was the only jewel required in that dress.
The Duke immediately escorted Eleanor onto the dance floor and swept her into a graceful waltz. She still hadn’t looked at Gareth.
Patrick swaggered up to him.
“Looks as though you took my advice.”
Gareth turned to him, not even trying to disguise the anger and hatred he was feeling.
“This is all your fault.”
Patrick held up both of his hands, taking a step back.
“I didn’t realize she meant that much to you. I was only trying to help.”
Gareth snorted and snatched the whiskey out of his friend’s hand. Tossing the golden liquid into the back of his throat, he swallowed, barely tasting it.
“I told you I was in love with her, Patrick. How could I have made myself more clear?” Gareth glared at his friend once more before turning back to watch Eleanor on the dance floor.
“She is beautiful and wealthy. And she is a lady,” Patrick said slowly, as though he had never looked at her properly before.
Gareth wanted to laugh out loud. If only he knew the extent of unladylike behavior she indulged in. But he just continued to watch her. She should have felt the intensity of his gaze – Eleanor was definitely ignoring him.
Without thinking about what it would show everyone in the room – in fact, he hoped it would show everyone how he felt about her – Gareth charged across the dance floor to tap the Duke on the shoulder.
“May I, Your Grace?” he said, gesturing to Eleanor.
The Duke turned around with a grin.
“No, Osborne, you may not.”
Half a twirl later and they were gone.
He stood on the dance floor feeling foolish and unwanted. What had happened? He had been so sure of her and of her feelings towards him. Why was she here with the Duke?
A guffawing noise broke through his surprise. A group of young lords stood to the side of the ballroom, laughing at his expense.
Gareth put all of his energy into silencing them with a ferocious glare.
They avoided his gaze and scuttled off.
What was he going to do?
The music changed and Gareth waited for the Duke to walk Eleanor off the dance floor. Instead he swept her into the next dance.
Frustration clawed at him, his belly on fire. Damning them both he charged back across the dance floor and tapped the Duke on the shoulder yet again.
“I would like to interrupt, Your Grace, and I’m afraid I won’t take no for an answer.”
The Duke laughed. “Took you long enough.”
Eleanor slapped him across the shoulder. “William!”
‘William’ laughed out loud and then proceeded to hand Eleanor over to Gareth with a flourish and a bow.
“She’s all yours. Try not to lose her again.”
Gareth looked straight at Eleanor when he said, “I won’t.”
He wrapped his arms around her and continued the dance.
“William?” Gareth asked, cocking an eyebrow.
Eleanor shrugged and averted her eyes.
Gareth squeezed her hand and pulled her a little closer.
“Please don’t, Gareth. If you don’t wish to marry me then that is your choice, but please don’t ruin my chances with everyone else.”
Gareth looked around and noticed how many people were looking at them.
There was only one answer.
He stilled their movements and grasped both of her wrists before he dropped down onto one knee.
The string quartet played softer and all the people dancing around them stopped to look.
“Please stand up, Gareth.”
“No, Mistress.” He shook his head, his eyes sparkling up at her.
“Do not call me that,” she hissed, her eyes darting to the horrified faces of the other ladies.
“You are the mistress of my heart, Eleanor, and of my soul. I love you more than I ever thought I could love anyone. Please, marry me.”
There was a general gasp and sigh around them but Gareth refused to look anywhere but at the woman in front of him.