Miss Simpkins' School: Molly Read online

  Charles laughed. “Oh, I please.” He scanned the room. “Will you be naked for me? Let me show you how it could be even though I accept you think it won’t?” Would she realize just how he’d worded his request? Of course she did.

  “Clever, my lord. It will be only this once. But yes, if you will join me?”

  “Then let’s start.” How trite his words sounded, but Charles was under no illusion about how strung up they both were. He wanted no premature ejaculation, even though he was sure he could persuade her to change her mind afterward. He began to undo the tiny covered buttons that stretched from the nape of her neck to the base of her spine.

  “Lud, woman, these are killing me. My cock is ready to snap in half. Who on earth designs a dress like this?”

  “Madame Losange, and it is designed to torture, tease, and tantalize. Even if we have no intention of using our wiles on a man, we dress as if we do. A woman needs all the help she can get.”

  Charles reached the last fastening and slipped it from through the loop that held it in place. “You need no help, love.”

  He drew the dress down her body, to bare the elegant column of her spine inch by inch. Molly gasped and spun round to face him. As her dress slithered off her body to pool in a heap of vibrant crimson and gold around her ankles, she lifted her face to run a series of tiny teasing nips across his cheeks

  “Now it’s my turn.” With tantalizing slowness she began to undo his cravat.

  Chapter Three

  Molly breathed a sigh of relief as Charles let her spin in his arms and present her front to him. Oh she wanted to undress him, and fast, but equally she didn’t want him to see her lower back and arse. Some things were best left alone.

  She took hold of both ends of the long strip of linen that was wound around Charles’ neck and slid it through her fingers. “Do you know how arousing it is to unwind a cravat? Even though you know that it’s just a piece of material tied in a specific way that covers a man’s neck. To find each inch spreads out in your hands and slides down your man’s body toward his cock. The more you unwrap the more he is on view, until at last...” She let the final foot of cloth caress the rear of his neck as she pulled it back and forth.

  “Why, at last you can do this.” Molly tugged at the material with both hands to nudge Charles toward her. His head dipped and she laughed in triumph. “Oh no, not yet. It’s my turn to tease. How lucky you have buttons on your shirt and no waistcoat to get in the way.”

  Charles swallowed hard, and Molly stared at the way his Adam’s apple rippled the skin of his throat. Such a little thing, but enough to make her mouth dry knowing she had caused it. “You see, a man’s body, the man’s body, is all a woman, his woman ever wants. To see the tell tale signs she has aroused him. The way his eyes light up or go cloudy. To watch as he swallows and groans as she does this.” Molly slipped her fingers under the fastenings of his shirt and made short work of undoing them. With each tie she opened she swirled her fingers over the hair that hid his chest. When his nipples were revealed, Molly leaned in and kissed each one in turn. “To feel those nubs harden and wonder if the sting flies to his cock in the same manner his touch sends messages to her clit,” she said in a soft, sultry tone. “All of this turns her on and makes her skin heat and her core melt.”

  She jerked his coat down his arms and with a wicked laugh left his hands imprisoned by the cloth. “To have him, even for such a short time, at her mercy, and know he can’t stop her if she does this.” Molly pulled the waist of his pantaloons down and released his cock, only to take it in her mouth and suck. The groan from Charles emboldened her and she laughed softly around his cock.

  “I need to be in you, love,” he all but begged her. Molly couldn’t help but be pleased at the thrill his attitude gave her. Petty and small minded maybe, however she decided it was a peculiar satisfaction when you reduced someone to that state for the best of all reasons...arousal. “Not your mouth. I want your cunt. Please.”

  She needed it as well. How long had it been since she’d felt so carefree? Her heart was light, and their sex so enjoyable that Molly couldn’t resist grazing her teeth along his length. His breath hissed out of him and somehow he managed to get hold of her hair, and pulled hard enough for tears to sting her eyes.

  “On the chaise, naked, now.” He barked the words and Molly let his cock slide out of her mouth with a gentle pop. When had he become so dominant?

  She liked it. In their youth they had explored each other, discovered what they liked together, and shared the highs. Sadly though, not the lows. Now, it seemed Charles knew what he liked and how to get it. He tugged her hair once more and she moved closer to avoid the extra pain. How on earth had he managed? She glanced at his hands to see he’d edged one arm out of his coat. His chest hair scratched the sensitive skin of her breasts. It was pleasurable, not painful and she wriggled to extend the feeling.

  “Molly.” His voice held a wealth of warning. “If you don’t want to be spanked so hard you won’t sit easy for a week, get over to the chaise now. I’m so hot and ready for you. I’ve waited longer than I dare contemplate for this. I don’t want to wait a minute more.”

  Nor did she. A spanking for pleasure was one thing. She’d like that, and had done it in the past. For punishment? Molly wasn’t so sure. Her only other lover had been somewhat more inventive with his punishments, although now wasn’t the time to think of them or him. Or to give Charles more time to decide how and what else she deserved. After all, she was the one who changed her mind and thus gave them this chance, so in no way could she spoil it.

  With what she hoped was elegant haste, but more likely an unseemly scramble, she backed away from him until the edge of the chaise bumped her legs. Molly sat down with a force that jiggled her breasts, and made Charles run his tongue over his lips. She twisted and stretched along the cushioned length, glad whoever decorated the folly had thought the soft seating necessary. The chaise was wide, more like a day bed than a settee, and would easily let Charles fit beside her.

  She stared over to where he was kicking off his breeches with little or no thought for just how creased they would become. Not that her gown would be a lot better. They had both scuffled through that in their erotic moving around.

  Charles picked up a flute of champagne and made his way toward her. Apart from the cravat still draped loosely around his neck, he stood as naked as the day he was born. The late afternoon sun shining through the window caught the hairs on his body and illuminated them like spun silk in its rays. The gleam in his eye shouted predator and his loose-limbed walk stalked her. If he were a snake she would be the one held in its thrall, and easy prey.

  Her stomach churned in the way it always did when she was excited. Not in a sick, spider-crawling way, but in a dancing emotional manner. Her skin so sensitive a butterfly’s wings would send goosebumps all over it as they stirred the air nearby. How long had she yearned for this?

  He handed her a glass and waited while she took a sip, and then held his hand out to take it from her. Puzzled, Molly gave it to him, and watched as he drank from the same place as her before putting it out of arm—or leg reach.

  “We’ve wasted enough. Give me your wrists.”

  She mistrusted the gleam in his eyes and the smile on his face. Not in an apprehensive way, because there was no malice in his expression. More a full on, sensual, wicked, “guess what’s going to happen next” way. Her juices collected at the neck of her womb and nigh on gushed out of her. With more haste than finesse, Molly held her arms out.

  “Good girl.”

  Girl? He has hit his head perchance? I haven’t been a girl for nigh on twenty years. Molly decided she liked it though. The warm look he gave her hinted of all things delicious, and the way he jerked the cravat up over his head before he brought it down and wrapped it round her wrists twice made her shiver in anticipation.

  “Do you trust me, Molly? Trust me to give you everything you want and need? For it’s many a year sin
ce we were intimate and times change. We have changed and you have no way of knowing who I now am, nor what I have become, other than by second hand knowledge.” Charles spoke in a serious manner as he knotted the cloth around her wrists and left two long ends dangling.

  “Isn’t that the same thing, want and need?” She ignored the second half of his pronouncement and honed in on the first.

  “Oh no, not by a long shot. You know what you want. I know what you need. Believe me, they are not synonymous. Do you trust me?”

  Molly gulped. His face was serious, his voice calm, and only a very faint tremor in his hand showed how he was affected and how much rested on her answer. He was only partially right in his surmise though. Ash had talked about him both during and after their long liaison. Ashley knew Molly and Charles had been close friends, found out how close when he and Molly first came together, and had taken pains to keep her up to date about Charles’ solitary life. The only thing he hadn’t mentioned had been Miranda. That had been a shock, but it mattered not. She would trust Charles as implicitly as she trusted Ash.

  “Of course. Did I not let you bind me? That takes more faith than you will ever know. I don’t give up my freedom easily.” Molly lifted her tied wrists and let her fingers trail down his arm. “Take me, Charles. Show me what I need and let me be yours.” The unspoken words, “just for this once,” hung in the air.

  “Oh, my pleasure.” He pushed her gently back onto the cushions and settled over her. “Open for me, love. Spread your legs and let me in.”

  They may not have been the most romantic words, but to Molly they were perfect and she blinked rapidly to disperse the tears of happiness that threatened to fall. Molly didn’t want to hit Charles with that sort of arousal. She let her legs fall apart, and lowered her lids a little to watch him sit between her open thighs. He took her ankles and put one on each of his shoulders.

  “Perfect. Oh so wet for me, love. That makes me wet also, see?” He ran his fingertip over his cock and offered the coated digit to her.

  Molly flicked her tongue out to lick and savor the sweet stickiness of his essence. She moaned her appreciation and Charles laughed. “Good, eh? I wonder if you taste as good.” He used the same finger to stroke the lips of her cunt before he slipped it inside to gather her juices. Then he slowly removed his finger, put it to his mouth, and sucked.

  “Nice. What do you think?” Once more he dipped into her channel but this time he offered the juices to Molly.

  How could she refuse?

  Chapter Four

  Charles held his juice-covered finger to Molly’s lips. “Taste.”

  Her eyes widened, but she opened her mouth and took his finger inside to roll her tongue over it. The tug on his skin, the graze of her teeth, and the way her eyes clouded with emotion made his cock harden to the point of pain. There was no doubt about it; this wasn’t going to be a long lovemaking.

  It was hard to hold back, to try and be gentle when his mind was saying now, push now. Only his iron will enabled him to take his time. He lifted her arms and stretched them up and over her head before he slowly edged his cock into Molly’s channel and rested for a moment. He was big, and in his eyes, Molly was so delicate.

  “I want all of you, Charles. Please, now. Oh lord, it’s been so long.” Her muscles clenched—not to repel him but to pull him in further and keep him there.

  He grinned. “Whatever my lady asks.” With one powerful surge he filled her, and began to set up a steady, pulsing, rhythm. Molly gasped and met him thrust for thrust.

  She moved her arms and put them over his head and around his neck. Her nails traced stinging circles as she scraped them across his skin. The ends of the cravat added tiny frissons of friction as they trailed along his back and sides.

  Charles saw stars. Damned if he could last much longer. Molly’s mewls and sighs, her gasps and moans were a powerful aphrodisiac. As she trembled beneath him, her body suffused with color. Her eyelids fluttered closed, her breathing sped up, and she screamed as her climax overwhelmed her. It was enough to send him tumbling over the edge with her. Charles did his best to be a gentleman and pull out, but Molly’s inner muscles held him fast. His heart beat at double speed, his skin tingled, and his body was on fire. Her scent surrounded him. Roses, lavender, and something that was indefinable, but all Molly. With a roar to rival the beasts in The Royal Exchange, Charles spilled, and tumbled over the edge to join her.

  She was crying. Tears coursed down her cheeks, even though she didn’t make a sound. Oh lord, what had he done? He began to pull out of her, to give her space and, for himself, to try and fathom what went wrong.

  “Don’t you dare,” Molly said fiercely. “Do not dare. Just hold me, oh sweet...hold me...” She burst into loud sobs. No delicate sobbing as most other women would. Molly’s eyes became puffy and her cheeks were blotchy. Charles leaned over her, stroked the soft skin of her shoulders, and noticed how violently she trembled. It almost destroyed him to see her like that. He felt sick. How could he have caused such a reaction?

  “Hush now, love, tell me what’s wrong. I’m only a man, not a mind reader. Men are stupid, we have no sense, we think with our cocks. Our cocks act independently. They have no sense.” Was his nonsense helping or making things worse? He had no idea but he rambled on, until Molly gave a watery laugh.

  “Your cock really does have no sense. He’s all soft and squishy, and about to wave me goodbye.”

  Charles knew that. For several minutes he’d grown less erect, and could do nothing about it. Her anguish upset him and, so it seemed, his staff. What was it with pricks and their tendency to hide at the first sign of feminine distress? Coward, he admonished his cock silently, and wouldn’t have been surprised to get an answer along the lines of, “it takes one to know one.” He had no idea what to do or say.

  “He is gathering his strength for another session,” Charles said gravely. “I am an old man you know, and I’ve discovered, sadly out of condition.” He levered himself upright and walked toward the ewer of water on a side table. “Cold, but it will do.” Deftly he took up the linen towel and dampened it. He’d wager whichever member of his staff was responsible for ensuring fresh water was kept at the folly didn’t think it would be used for washing quims and cocks...or perhaps they did?

  “Perhaps cold is best,” Molly said. “I’m hot enough to start a fire.” Her flushed skin and bright eyes made him imagine how beautiful she would look on a rug. Naked in front of a fire. Like that the flames would light her body, and create interesting shadows over her skin.

  “May I?” Charles waited for her nod before he wiped away the evidence of their passion from her body. Only then did he attend to himself, and wrap a towel around his waist before he threw the used water out of the doorway onto the grass. The last rays of sun hit the windows of the folly and gold and red reflected on the glass. Molly appeared at the doorway behind him, wrapped in a shawl she’d found from somewhere. The sun transferred itself to her rosy skin, and she glowed.

  “Oh, how lovely everywhere looks in this light. It’s a shame we have to go. There’s something ever so special about sharing the sunset with the man you—” She stopped speaking suddenly, and if it was possible became redder than ever.

  Charles wondered how far the blush extended and vowed one day, somehow, to find out. “You?” He prompted her, and wondered just what she would say.

  “Have just lain with,” Molly said huskily. “The man you have just spent such a precious hour with. The memory of which will stay at the top of your memory bank forever. The sort of memory you bring out on a dark day, when your mind and body wants to give up, and you wonder how you can climb out of the mental hole you’re in. When you need something so beautiful and perfect to hold on to. Something to make you believe in life.” She sighed.

  It was the saddest sound Charles had ever heard and it hit his gut with the thud of a hammer. Even worse than her tears, the thought that she could experience such despair sent his emotions sp
inning. What could he do or say to take the shadows from her eyes? To remove the uncertainty in her voice and bring his vibrant Molly back? As he struggled for words to comfort and reassure her—after all, why should she need to resurrect the here and now when they had all their life ahead of them—she shook herself and rolled her shoulders.

  “Ah well, I suppose I best dress so we can get back before it gets dark.”

  Charles wanted to say, “No, let’s stay here. Forget the world, be just us.” Damn if only it could be so. “I think we have five minutes for a hug,” he said instead. “The moon will be up soon, and my horse, Meg, knows the track as well as any man. Come here.” He held his arms open. With a tiny sob, Molly gathered the shawl tighter around her body, and half ran the few steps to reach him.

  As he enfolded her into his arms and held her tight, Charles accepted that he couldn’t lose her. Molly was his other half, his completion. He’d spent so long looking for that elusive something he knew he hadn’t experienced in any of his relationships. Not since one brief encounter all those years ago.

  For several minutes neither of them spoke. Charles contented himself with stroking Molly’s hair as she clasped her arms around his waist and rested her head on his chest. As they stood there silent and at ease the warmth of the day was gradually replaced by the chills of a late summer evening. Eventually she shivered.

  He tipped up her chin to look her in the eyes. “You’re cold. We’d best get dressed and head back.”

  She nodded. “All good things come to an end.” Above them the first star of the evening twinkled as the moon appeared over the tree line and bathed the landscape and them with its’ pale white light.

  “Why? Why end, Molly? What we do is up to us. I can’t believe these few hours meant so little to you.”