“Yes. Mr. Noble looked . . . scary. But do you really think he’s dangerous?”
“He’s unstable. I’m afraid he might have more in common with his mother than any of us like to admit. I can tell Anne and James are worried about it, but they don’t like to say anything. It’s too difficult of a topic for them, as much as they’ve suffered with watching Helen’s descent into madness. Ian’s state of mind is why I’ve had you looking out for Francesca. Sadly, it looks as if her feelings for him haven’t been dampened by his volatility. It’s not going to end up anywhere good between them,” he stated grimly.
He ignored Clarisse’s concerned expression and pulled her over to his bed without removing her lingerie, panties, and shoes. She had to half jog to keep up with him, her breasts bouncing in the push-up bra she wore.
“Bend over the bed,” he said shortly. “You were right. I’m not in the mood to wait.”
“Yes sir.”
She did as she was told, and he smiled as he reached into the pocket of her dress still draped over his arm. He took out her Belford passkey. Clarisse had recently unwisely informed him that she frequently got in trouble from the maid supervisor for misplacing her key. Unfortunately for her, he’d learned that Clarisse had a history of getting herself into trouble, a fact that Gerard planned to use to his advantage. He opened a drawer on the bedside table and dropped the key inside before removing a bottle of lubricant and tossing aside the dress.
He didn’t demand that she call him sir, it just slipped out every once in a while from habit. It didn’t displease him. Not in the least. If fate hadn’t been such a cruel bitch, Clarisse would have been his possession just like everything else at Belford.
He jerked down his pants and underwear and opened the bottle of lubricant. He approached her, rubbing the silky liquid onto his raging erection as he did so. She wouldn’t be prepared for this quick of an entry, but he was, and that was all that counted.
He slid her panties over her ass and let them fall down her ankles. He squeezed a buttock, grunting in arousal. She was firm and taut, although not as fleshy as he’d like for what he had planned. Still, she’d do. He drove his cock into her, making her squeal.
Yes, she’d do very nicely.
He pushed his cock into her pussy, grabbed her slender hips, and began slamming into her with unapologetic greed. At first, her moans might have been from discomfort, but they quickly segued to the sounds of a woman who was enjoying being fucked. Her pussy was tight and muscular. Even if she hadn’t agreed to pass information to him about private matters regarding Francesca, he might have chosen her for a regular bedmate during this particular stay at Belford. Clarisse would do almost anything he demanded of her sexually.
Which reminded him . . .
She was growing hot and juicy, moaning as he took her harder. He grabbed her buttocks and spanked one of them, watching his cock plunging in and out of her pussy all the while. She mewled at the spanking, so he landed several more, his cock jerking in excitement in her tight channel at the smacking sound and the rising color on the smooth cheeks.
He gritted his teeth in restraint and slowly drew his erection out of her, his cock falling and bobbing in the air before him. God, he was horny. If only he could get last night out of his head. It plagued him, those memories of what he’d seen . . . of what he hadn’t seen, but only heard. Damn Ian for not cooperating and carrying on all of his antics with Francesca in places other than the bed, where one of two surveillance cameras was placed. True, his primary objective was to gather information, and he was close—so close—to decoding the movement of Ian’s rapidly moving fingers as he punched in his private password to his computer. But that didn’t mean that he didn’t enjoy all the other things he’d witnessed in his cousin’s room last night. Well, Gerard wasn’t sure if enjoyed was the right word. It also enraged him, ate at him, haunted him to hear Francesca’s cries and mewls of stark pleasure, to observe Ian dominating and possessing what Gerard could not make submit or own.
It would have been better for Francesca’s health if she’d accepted Gerard. Much better. She was a fool to seek solace and protection from a man who was not destined to be on this earth for much longer.
That surveillance video certainly plagued his cock as well, Gerard thought, grimacing as he stroked his rigid erection. He was uncomfortable from sustained arousal, but also very pleased. He enjoyed discovering something that made him this stiff and virile.
He stepped out of his pants and underwear, pausing to remove his belt, looping it in one hand. Clarisse remained bent over the bed, but she looked anxiously over her shoulder. She made an arousing picture, her cheeks starting to flush from excitement, her bottom slightly pink, her outer sex visible between her spread thighs, the tissues slick and flushed. She saw the belt. His cock jumped in the air when her eyes widened in trepidation. Their sexual relationship had only begun the day before Francesca arrived at Belford, when he’d heard Clarisse would be the one to serve her. He’d never done anything like this to her before. He chuckled and smoothed the leather over her ass.
“Now I propose we make things between us a little more interesting,” he said silkily. “I’ve recently come to recognize how thrilling the belt can be.”
He didn’t wait for her permission before he landed the leather strap and she fell forward, crying out sharply and catching herself with her hands.
* * *
Francesca recalled the labyrinth trail she’d taken on the night of the ball in order to find Mrs. Hanson. It seemed she’d gone a backward route. All she need have done was take the door off the dining room, which led to a staging area for serving, and then some stairs that went to the kitchens. Once she was sure Ian hadn’t followed her, she paused on the stairs, gathering herself and drying a few tears while she listened to the sounds of pots clanging and sporadic conversation in the distance.