Nicholas' Bargain Ch. 02

Before Lara could reply, however, Nicholas interrupted to ask the older woman whether she was feeling the draft in the box as much as her charge.

"Indeed I am quite content but the girl must not catch a chill. Perhaps there is a lap blanket in here?"

Nicholas' private box seemed a touch more luxurious than the others and she could see that there was indeed a soft dark blanket as well as some intricately stitched cushions for ones comfort should the red velvet lined seats prove uncomfortable.

With a flourish, Nicholas placed the blanket over Lara's lap, and satisfied and eager to get back to the entertainment, Katie turned her back on them, captivated once more.

"Your chaperone seems quite in her own world," Nicholas murmured and they both considered the woman who sat a few feet from them.

In response, Lara reached once more for his hand, her eyes never leaving the stage. At some point, his hand moved away from hers and now sat beneath the cover of the blanket, resting on her velvet seat, snugly close to her thigh but not quite touching. Once more, because she yearned for the contact, Lara moved her fingers to find him and placed them, boldly, around his wrist feeling the short hairs there.

The feeling of the coarse hairs, the warmth of his skin and his invading smell all induced a warm wetness to settle between her legs. Trying subtly to squeeze her thighs together in restlessness, Lara made to move her hand away from his to end the madness within her but before she could he reversed their positions so that he now held her.

Clutching her hand, Nicholas manoeuvred it high onto her lap and placed his own over it. So bold a move but so easily accomplished in this darkened box with its veiling gold coloured curtains. Heart lurching, Lara squeezed her hand into a fist beneath his before quickly slipping it away so that now his large palm was left resting alone, perilously close to her mound under the protection of the lap blanket.

Lara glanced at Nicholas from beneath her lashes, feeling shaky. His body was still settled a polite distance from her and if one were to look over it would all look quite innocent. And then his hand moved on her ever so slightly and tentatively and she could hardly think about anything else. She gave a slight nod before returning her hard eyes to the stage and fought to keep them from fluttering closed.

Nicholas elicited slight pressure on her. His hand flattened on her lap and with his fingers pointing toward the floor, they cupped her over her dress. Beneath the secrecy of the dark blanket, he burrowed his two middle fingers between her cleft, moving them back and forth very slowly until he had created a crease in the skirts of her dress, a crease that outlined her mound as closely and snugly as it could. He kept up this rhythmic massage and was given greater access when Lara's legs parted ever so slightly under the blanket. There, he followed her mound all the way down, putting pressure against her opening and rubbing his fingers against the spot that, even through the layers of clothing, heated his digits.

"Close your legs," he dipped his head toward her ear for the briefest of seconds before turning his attention to the stage once more and heard Lara's breath catch as she obeyed and, with his fingers now trapped between her thighs, he circled and rubbed her with vigour.

Seeing her lashes flutter, Nicholas tapped her clit. She gasped but in the noise of the theatre only he could hear the satisfying sound. Again, he massaged her and again, he tapped and he kept up this rhythm until her breaths began to match his movements and then all too quickly she was pushing him away, shaking her head.

Lara couldn't let go like she did when she rubbed herself at night – not here. She had felt the familiar sensation climbing, had felt she throbbing just by his scent and presence alone let alone his physical manipulation. She had felt her clitoris throbbing and tingling in need and had wanted so desperately to grab his large hand and pull it beneath her draws to her dewy heat but instead had removed the blanket and his hand and sat now, suffering through the rest of the performance and diligently trying to keep her glance on the stage.

*

Bidding good evening to Nicholas after the show with a calmness she was far from feeling, Lara had sat in the carriage on the way to her house feeling frustrated and oddly depressed. She missed him. Which was simply absurd. But the separation between them as she sped off to Piccadilly and he to his own destination made her ache with disappointment.

He had politely inquired as to her plans tomorrow before the performance had started that evening and she had mentioned her outing with her relations, dropping in her Aunt Cecilia's preference for shopping in Covent Garden in hopes of giving him a subtle, futile hint. But he had not said anything that suggested any reason for her to hope for a further encounter with him.

Her family would depart for the country in a few days and the knowledge that she may never see him again filled her with sadness. There was something about him quite apart from his compelling nature... a kind of vulnerability that she was sure she spied but was never convinced of for all the quickness with which it disappeared.

Once the carriage approached the townhouse, Katie and Lara entered to her parents questions about how it all went and whether Lord Armel had proved an accommodating companion but feeling almost like a miser with her gold, Lara hadn't wanted to divulge and had felt almost territorial over Nicholas and their evening – for Katie having been so captivated and inattentive had almost seemed to be in another building altogether - and so Lara had pleaded exhaustion and lay now on her side in bed, the curtains open half way so that the low light from the moon filtered into her bedroom.

Lara closed her eyes and moved quickly onto her back then, unable to deny herself any longer and tugged her nightdress up over knees before stroking her thighs lightly. In her mind she saw Nicholas' strange glittering blue eyes running over her and placed her lips on that flash of throat that could be seen beneath his cravat to taste his skin.

Her body recalled his covered manhood on her naked skin on the night of Amelia's ball and the sensation of its heat and heaviness and throbbing demand was almost a tangible thing. Slipping her fingers over her naked mound, Lara rubbed the moisture around slowly while her other hand moved up her stomach until it covered a breast. There, she caught a nipple between thumb and forefinger and pulled at it lazily. She tugged at it quickly then before dipping her fingers into her hole at the same time, as far in as she dared, all the while concentrating on the memory of Nicholas' suckling lips on her breasts. She could almost feel the pull and tug and gnawing of his teeth on the puckered flesh and knew an overwhelming urge to thrust and plunge her fingers into her sheath, to satisfy the urge for fullness inside of her.

Spreading her legs wide under the quilt, the soles of her feet flat on her mattress, Lara manipulated the tight bundle of nerves that gave her such intense pleasure. To tip her over the edge, she envisioned Nicholas above her now, his manhood eager and hard and naked against her skin, bathing itself in the wetness from the centre of her legs before thrusting into her wanting entrance with a hard determination. Crying out softly, she reached her goal with a jerk of her hips and a tightening of her thighs.

Soon after, rather than stay away and stare into the darkness as usual, she found herself falling to an almost instant sleep. She felt content, languid though not completely satisfied. When she dreamt that night, it was of an imposing and demanding man who promised her things that she hardly thought possible. And in her dreams she consented to him fully, knowing that she would never be parted from him, that he would be with her forever and that she would be his.

*

The next day

The narrow London streets were hard to negotiate, and if you stopped for even a moment you were guaranteed a bruised toe...or nine. Still, Lara could find little reason to complain today as she tailed her Aunt Cecilia and cousin, popping into a milliner for ribbons, a beauty shop for perfumes and a bakery for éclairs. And if her mind were distracted even whilst surrounded by these fascinating sights, she was sure to put on a smiling face for her cousin, determined that she enjoy the day to her fullest without dwelling on Him. Her two relations soon spotted a strange shop selling all manner of things from jewellery to horse saddles and more eager to forage through the bookshop opposite, Lara pleaded leave.

She entered the bookshop following her aunt's firm order that she was to remain and wait for them to collect her and must not wander off. This was the extent of her guardianship but it was quite comforting none the less to know that she was not completely carefree in her duty as protector.

Lara gave her reticule a little shake and despaired at the telling sound. A few coins, nothing more. Enough to buy a penny-dreadful novel perhaps, but she would have to hide it well lest her mother have another fit. The last one had caused a mini battle to ensue between the two of them, the book having been open on a particularly saucy page and her mother didn't sit will with such vulgar literature. The novel had told the tale of a weak-willed damsel and a roguish highwayman with few scruples and at the irony and heated memories she felt acute arousal hit her, right there in the middle of a musty old book shop.

Hoping to distract herself, Lara trailed her fingers over some handsome hardbacks and stopped on an anthology of gothic poetry but finding no price approached the store clerk. After all, she may be able to haggle.

The clerk looked at her stubbornly in response and replied, "More than you've got."

Humiliated, Lara glanced away. True, in her unattractive clothes, she didn't quite resemble the fine ladies and gentleman who frequented the shop, but still, her garments were made of quality materials, even if a little on the grey and brown and larger side.

"Answer the lady again."

With mutual looks of surprise, Lara and the shop clerk turned in the direction of the cool command. Clasping the book of poetry against her chest like a shield, Lara valiantly tried to maintain eye-contact with the tall man towering above her. A vision from the night of the ball assailed her of his looming presence on the balcony – like a regal King – whilst she had looked up ay him from her place at the bottom of the garden steps, the peasant.

"No, really – it's quite alright. I wasn't even that interested in it anyway," she lied.

At her words, the clerk grabbed the book from her and dusted at it insultingly.

"Wrap it up, I shall buy it. Come, come, I haven't all day," Nicholas instructed, staring at the bony clerk with narrowed eyes.

He listened to mans confused thoughts; anger that the girl had fingered the pristine book, greed because of Nicholas' appearance which announced him as Gentleman. Yet he knew that Nicholas' meant to give the book to the girl and did not want to relinquish it to her out of principle.

The clerk quickly passed over the shoddily wrapped book, his greed overriding his principles – great surprise that, Nicholas mused sardonically - before accepting the funds from Nicholas with snatching fingers. Collecting the package, Nicholas sought Lara's forearm and directed them both toward the rear of the shop where they could talk unobserved, concealed as they were by the tall bookshelves in the darkened shop.

"For you."

Lara looked at the proffered hands gloved in grey leather. Though covered, one could still appreciate the strength of those hands, and she herself swore she could almost feel their heat.

"It's not right," she shook her head.

"I think we've gone a little beyond propriety at this point, Lara."

She looked at him quickly at that. It was not proper that he should use her first name and in public too but the fact that he had made her feel weak. And that he had come...that he had travelled to where she had stated she would be and looked out for. But why? Why was such a beautiful, cultured man interested in someone as unremarkable as her? Perhaps he thought to pick up where he had left of yesterday – and the night before that - but if that were so she must stop putting it off and inform him now that she was no easy girl and that her virtue was for her husband alone.

Seeing that he still held the book out for her, she at last moved her hands from beneath her cape and accepted the offering before thanking him politely.

With this bookshop as a backdrop, the man standing centimetres from her made for a startling picture. Dressed in polished black boots, well tailored breeches and a jacket that moulded itself defiantly to his strong chest, she was sure even the book clerk had been taken with him.

"No doubt you are most busy today and wish to get on," she nodded once and turned away, pretending to be ever so interested in the book about fly-fishing before her.

"Not yet – don't you know I came here to see you? Would you really send me on my merry way without even a smile?" his tones were teasing.

'Did you - did you really' her thoughts chimed but she must not give into his charm. This would lead nowhere, that much was clear. Besides she would be out of London by the end of week and the thought made her throat close. She looked away from Nicholas in withdrawal not before catching his frowning brow but whatever he was going to say was interrupted by the cheerful bell at the door announcing new customers.

"Sorry we were so long," Amelia approached her breathlessly, her brows arched in enquiry.

Lara glanced from Nicholas to her relations, wondering about an explanation and praying to God that her face did not betray the origins of their...acquaintance to one another.

"Ah, my lord – I believe we met briefly at Amelia's come out the night before last." Her aunt, having trailed in behind her daughter, took the decision out her hands.

Nicholas murmured an appropriate response before bowing over her aunt's hand dutifully. He was so tall that he had to stoop quite a bit and Lara was given a clear view of the nape of his neck, covered partially by soft black curls. Her fingers moved involuntarily at the memory of them between her palms.

"Oh, we cannot converse in this mouldy old shop," her aunt wrinkled her nose then and beckoned them all outside and Lara was sure she heard a wounded gasp from the clerk as they exited.

*

Congregated in the airy Day Room in her aunt's townhouse, Lara studied her teacup with concentration. It was a little past five now and following their exit from the bookshop, her aunt had jovially declared that they must all return to the townhouse for tea and cake. She had been most insistent that Lord Armel accompany them. From Aunt Cecilia's expression it was clear to see she had marked Lord Armel as a most eligible bachelor and promising contender for her daughter's hand for his face and manner hinted at fine breeding and his way of dress marked him as impossibly wealthy, all vital ingredients for a suitable husband in her opinion.

The thought of Nicholas preferring Amelia over her– a very large possibility – made Lara's chest tighten.

And so here the five of them sat now, Lord Hampton the fifth.

*

Nicholas reclined farther in his seat, a picture of masculine carelessness. Beneath his lashes, he watched a bead of sweat trickle down Lord Hampton's temple before transferring his regard to the blonde, Amelia, giving her his fullest attention.

"What a wonderful coming out ball you had, my lady. It seemed you made quite an impression on society."

Amelia smiled politely. She had been studying Lara's man – the thought seemed to have stuck - since she had come upon him conversing with Lara in the bookshop and had concluded that he was indeed handsome, perhaps the handsomest man she had seen. But he lacked that special something that made her sing... mainly he lacked the fact that he was Lord Nicholas Armel and not Mr Cole Morely.

She fingered her necklace then, a gift from Cole last night. It wasn't anything very much; just a simple chain with the tiniest of pearls but the fact that he had purchased it with his hard earned money meant that it could have been the largest diamond for all of the care she handled it with.

"Your future certainly looks bright," Nicholas continued. "I have heard there have been many offers for your hand since the ball."

At this, Nicholas noted the uncomfortable expression that entered Amelia's face. He also followed her hand as it moved to her neck again, and her mind was filled with the image of a blonde man, his face warm.

"Yes, she was a huge success," Lady Cecilia contributed fondly. "Still, I can scarcely believe that my darling daughter will be married and a mother in no time at all, but it is time I relinquish her and let her live her own life."

Hampton shot a quick glance at the black haired devil opposite him at his wife's words. He detected the smallest of smiles on the bastards face. He was enjoying every bit of this. He felt his own throat contract. There his daughter sat without an inkling that her father had finally decided to follow through with his agreement to hand her over.

Taking a steadying breath, the most potent of his life, Hampton said then, "Lord Armel - if I may, I would like to go over our business arrangement again," Hampton cleared his throat.

"Oh, not now, Arthur – let Lord Armel enjoy his tea-"

Smoothly cutting Lady Cecilia off, Nicholas rose with negligent grace and thanked the woman for her hospitality before turning to her husband. "Whenever you are ready, my lord," he looked at the ashen faced man opposite him with an unblinking stare.

*

Hampton had bidden Nicholas to wait a moment and so here he sat now, alone in the study. He closed his eyes for a moment. Lara. He could feel her now. He detected distress over something and restlessness. Since he had scant hours left in this world, he had accepted that this would only leave time enough to conclude matters with Hampton. The fact that he would even consider voluntarily extending his stay in this world in order to seduce and possess Lara grated on him. She was so well guarded and there were no distractions like at the ball; no opportunities for him to seduce her.

Clearly, he could take her now in front of everyone if it was his will but the recriminations back in his own world were not worth it. His hands tightened on the arms of his chair as he considered that once he had sampled and drained Amelia's blood should Hampton agree to give her to him, the taunting thoughts of Lara would subside. Feeding on Amelia would replenish his body and mind and leave him sated for years. After all that was the sole purpose why – for him at least – he dabbled with humans in the first place; pure, pledged blood was precious indeed and not something to turns ones nose up at.

However, this plan could be equally as thwarted if Hampton refused to hand Amelia over. One person's thoughts he could not hear were those of his bonded, Hampton's – as such, he had no way of knowing at this point what Hampton had determined to do. But if he refused to hand over his daughter, Nicholas would make him pay harshly. His limits had been tested to an unbearable degree on this journey and he would not let it go lightly.

*

"Just do what I say, man. I need a witness. Ask no questions, do you understand?"

Cole met his employer's eyes steadily. "Of course, my lord. But why-"

Lord Hampton slashed his hand through the air. "You are my solicitor – so do your job and ask no questions! Come, we must not keep him waiting."