His Disobedient Thief (Rakes of Mayfair Book 2)
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
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His Disobedient Thief
Rakes of Mayfair, Book Two
Melinda Barron
Blushing Books
Contents
What’s Inside
FREE Books for Amazon Customers
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Melinda Barron
EBook Offer
Blushing Books Newsletter
Blushing Books
©2018 by Blushing Books® and Melinda Barron
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Melinda Barron
His Disobedient Thief
EBook ISBN: 978-1-61258-603-8
Print ISBN: 978-1-61258-627-4
Cover Art by ABCD Graphics & Design
This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as Blushing Books' or the author's advocating any non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking of minors.
What’s Inside
Very well, Carin. Undo your trousers and pull them and your underclothes around your knees. Then place yourself across my lap.”
Carin’s trembling fingers worked at her laces, her fingers slipping in their effort to hurry. She didn’t dare disobey him. If he figured out she really was a cat burglar he would surely summon the Inspector, and then there would be the devil to pay.
She fumbled with the laces and let her gaze look first toward the bedroom door, and then toward the French doors that had offered her such an easy escape the night before.
“I know what you’re thinking and it’s really not worth the effort,” Ellington said. “I will catch you before you make it to the doors, I assure you. And your spanking will be that much harder. Now do as you’re told, before I send Temple after the authorities.”
Carin finished undoing her trousers, and then squared her shoulders. She refused to show him that she was frightened. She slipped her thumbs inside her clothing and pushed them down to her knees, underclothes and all.
Ellington threw out his arms and nodded his head toward his lap. Carin looked down. The bulge was bigger than before. What sort of man was this?
“Get into place,” he said. “Surely you’ve been spanked before.”
Carin quickly lowered herself onto his lap. It was best to get this over with as soon as possible.
“Raise your arms above your head,” Ellington ordered. “Keep them there or I will restrain you.”
Not trusting her voice, Carin nodded. She shivered, when Ellington’s hand caressed her bum. His hands were soft, yet firm. Her body was tight with fear and anticipation, and she yelped in pain when the caress turned into a hard thwack.
He brought his hand down over and over, and Carin tried to stand. Ellington put his hand on the small of her back and pushed her back down.
“Stop, stop! It hurts too much!”
He laughed evilly and slapped her behind repeatedly, the loud cracking noises competing with her sobs to fill the room.
“Please, Lord Ellington, I’m sorry, please stop!”
“I am not a Lord,” he said. “I am the fifth son of a Baron. You will call me sir, but not milord.”
She ignored his words and reached back to try and block the spanking but he grabbed her hands with his free hand. Now, with her hands caught behind her back he continued to spank.
“Tell me what the key is for, Carin.”
She ignored his demand and he delivered more slaps.
“Answer me!
Why wasn’t he tiring of this? Why was he being this way? Did he think this was fun? That was obvious, since he thought she was a gift from his friends.
She couldn’t take much more of it, and she couldn’t really think of a credible lie.
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Chapter 1
London
Spring, 1886
Tristan Mallory, Lord Ellington, was bored. He looked around the full ballroom at the colorful skirts and laughing ladies and felt not one whiff of interest. At the ripe old age of forty he’d lost all interest in the fairer sex.
Okay, he admitted to himself, not all interest. As a founding member of The Rakes of Mayfair Club, he still enjoyed meeting and introducing lovely ladies to the darker side of sexual activities. He attended The Club meetings several times a month, and had fun with the ladies, ninety percent of them widows, several times a month. But he no longer saw any of the ladies as being the sort he might approach about having a long-term relationship, and it was all Lord and Lady Essex’s fault.
Ellington looked over at his friends as they talked, Charlotte reaching up to whisper in Dalton’s ear, her words earning a laugh from her husband. That’s what I want, Ellington thought, love. It had been so long since his wife died that he’d forgotten about love. Seeing the Essexes’ happiness in the past year had brought the feelings back full force.
And Charlotte
, bless her heart, had tried to find someone for Ellington to love. She’d not so subtly invited him to tea when her single friends were there. There had been house parties with his room situated between two different widows’ rooms, both of them vying for his attentions during the night. And there had been dinner invitations, where it was just Dalton and Charlotte, Ellington and one other lady. And although Ellington appreciated the effort not one of the ladies had raised his heart rate. He couldn’t imagine one of these sweet females across his knee, his hand coming down on their backsides. He couldn’t imagine them on their knees, sucking his cock. He couldn’t imagine them tied to his bed while he teased them, or on their hands and knees while he stuck his dick in their bums.
While the ladies milling about the room didn’t raise his interests, his cock was hard at the thought of sex, good, hard, dirty sex. Damn, he needed to find someone who could ease the physical ache that seemed to take over. There was a Rakes Club meeting tonight. Perhaps he should leave this soiree and find a nice, willing woman to at least help him find release.
Ellington stood and ran his hands down his muscular thighs. He knew he wasn’t bad to look at. Tall, muscular, blond hair, blue eyes. Why couldn’t he find a woman whom he could love? He made his way across the ballroom to his hosts. Charlotte smiled at him as he appeared. Her green eyes were flashing mischief and beside her Dalton groaned, shaking his head.
“Lord Ellington, I have someone I want you to meet.” Without waiting for an answer, Charlotte grabbed his arm and made her way to a pretty, little blonde whom she introduced as Shelia McCoy. “Shelia’s late husband was Scottish, and they lived in Edinburgh. He passed several months ago, and she has only been in England for a few days. I thought maybe you could show her the finer sites of London.” Charlotte smiled at him as he bowed low over Shelia’s hand, murmuring his condolences on the death of her husband. She was a pretty woman, but her eyes did not make him want her. In fact, he wondered what she would be like in bed. Would she be one of those women who closed her eyes and prayed for it all to end? He’d been with those sorts before, and he didn’t want to be there again.
His late wife, Ava, had been a perfect match for him. She’d savored sex, and when they’d go places she’d find a way to come near him and say, “Do you think we can slip away and fuck in the gardens?”
That’s what he wanted, a woman who was adventurous. But childbirth had taken Ava far too young, and he had to admit it made him a little bitter.
“Milord,” Shelia whispered, letting her hand linger in his own. “Lady Essex tells me that you’re quite a horseman. I enjoy riding myself. Perhaps we could take a turn around the park some afternoon.”
Ellington kept his smile in place, despite the fact he thought the woman’s offer a bit suggestive. After all, when you were seen in the park with someone it was obvious to society there was something between you, a relationship. You didn’t ride with someone you’d just met.
Dinner was announced at that time and Ellington was saved from making a response.
“May I escort you into the dining room, Mrs. McCoy?” He offered his arm, which the woman took eagerly. She leaned against him as they walked, her breasts pressing against his arm. She was nice and plump, which is something Tristan looked for in a woman.
“It’s so nice to have a strong man such as yourself escort me,” Shelia said. “I do enjoy the touch of a masculine hand on my body.”
Bollocks but she is bold. Had Charlotte not told her anything about The Club? Did she not know he liked his women on the submissive side in the bedroom? He wanted an equal partner in life, and a lover who gave over in the bedroom. He would make the moves when it came to sex.
Inside the dining room he found his place right next to the pretty blonde. He looked at Charlotte who giggled. He really was going to have to have a talk with her about this. Although he appreciated the effort he would find a woman on his own.
When Shelia put her hand on his upper thigh and squeezed he picked up his wine and took a large drink. He hated to hurt her feelings, but there was no spark between them, at least not one he felt. The problem now would be how to tell her he wasn’t interested without causing a scene.
Charlotte was the one who had started this; he would make sure she found someone for Shelia who was more appropriate.
Carin Piper flattened herself against a wall and held her breath. Who knew that one man would have so many servants? She knew that Lord Ellington’s daughter had recently married and moved to her own house. Why did one man need a large household staff? This was the third servant she’d seen since breaking into Ellington's home. And why wasn’t he like most people, giving them the night off when he was out?
She sighed as she waited. Here she was almost thirty-five, unmarried, dressed like a man and breaking into people’s houses. This was not what she thought her life would be like. But she didn’t need to be distracted about that now. That would only keep her from doing what needed to be done.
Carin peered around the corner, saw that it was clear and crept toward the area where she assumed the library was located. That would be where he kept all his important papers.
The door opened quietly, and she slipped inside. An oil lamp illuminated the room, showing that her assumption had been correct. Walls of books lined two walls. And sitting near the French doors was a large roll top desk.
She moved quietly across the room, taking hold of the cover and pulling. The desk was locked. She smiled to herself. She did love a challenge. Taking out her picks she went to work, freeing the lock in seconds and pushing the cover up silently. She hoped this time she would find what she was looking for. This was the fourth house she’d broken into this week. One of the men who owned these houses had been responsible for the death of her father, and she intended to find out who it was.
She picked up papers and began to read. She figured that she had at least three more hours before Ellington came home, enough time to look through the desk, find the Lord’s bedroom and see if he kept anything of interest there. The desk held nothing but bills from the grocer, from the candlemaker, and for the rent from the stables where he quartered his four horses and two carriages.
For a moment she wondered what it would feel like to own four horses and two carriages. She didn’t even own one horse or carriage. All she had were rooms that were really not fit for people to live in, and a job that made her a servant to people in society.
She put the papers back in place, being careful so he wouldn’t know they had been searched.
After coming up empty in the desk search, Carin made her way quietly down the hallway, hoping that another servant didn’t come around the corner. She found Ellington’s bedroom and entered quickly. A strong scent of cinnamon and sandalwood hit her nose. She’d seen Lord Ellington from a distance while she was doing what her father would call the grunt work, which meant she needed to make sure she knew the layout of the land.
Even from a distance she could see that he was a handsome man. Too bad they were not in the same class. She took another sniff and closed her eyes. She wondered what it would feel like to be with a man like him. To have him caress her, kiss her, love her. The thought of Ellington laboring above her brought back memories of her husband Mark. He’d been dead for five years, leaving her with nothing. But her husband had been a good man, gentle and strong.
When Mark had died her father, sweet man that he was, had told his daughter she would have to fend for herself. Which meant doing the only thing he could teach her; how to live a good life through crime. He’d taught her how to be silent, blend into the woodwork and take what would bring good money. But Carin had rejected that life of crime. She’d found a job as a seamstress assistant.
But six months ago, things had changed. Her father had been killed, found in Hyde Park with his throat slit by what the authorities thought was a saber. But they didn’t care about him. He was nothing more than a thief, and they had told her that his death really didn’t matter. In fact, one of them
said it would be good for all of London. More people would be able to keep hold of their money and valuables with one less thief in the city.
Their words angered her, and she’d decided if they wouldn’t find out who had taken her father’s life, she would do it. She would use the knowledge he’d taught her in an effort to bring his murderer to justice. She’d collected the things from his house and from the place where she knew he hid his stolen goods.
Then she’d searched the items and found jewelry, cash and four items that had caught her eye; four keys, all of them labeled with a name and address, but no name. To her mind that meant one of the four men who owned these houses killed her father.
As she’d fingered the keys she’d thought back to the final conversation she’d had with her father, just two months before his death.
He’d been hired by a high-ranking member of the realm who had a gambling problem. That person needed money. He paid Carin’s father to steal items and sell them. The fancy Lord provided information, and Carin’s father did the legwork. And they split the money.
“It’s good blunt, Carin,” her father had said. “He lets me know when people are going to be out of their homes, and what they gots that’s worth taking. You’ll see, no harm will come from it.”
She’d been angry with her father, but he’d told her he was just trying to put things in order. “They have so much, Carin. They won’t miss the little things I take. They are so arrogant, too. They make things too easy sometimes. You should join me and make a little more blunt.” But then he had paused and frowned. “Never take things at surface value, daughter. Always look for that which resides underneath. People hide things in the easiest places, really, but no one thinks to look for what is right under their feet.”