Pleasure and Purpose Read online

  "You haven't yet told me what you'd like me to call you." Honesty dusted her hands from the slight bit of soot on the palms, then moved to the wall to yank the bell cord. "And you might tell me what you'd like for your morning meal, so I can tell the maid when she comes."

  None of this was going how he'd imagined, and anger swelled up from his gut, strangling him to silence. She looked at him again, curious, and her mouth thinned for so brief a moment he was sure he'd mistaken the sight.

  "I could tell the maid myself," he said coldly. "But when I've laid out the cost of Handmaiden, I expect more than having to make it so."

  At this, Honesty let her gaze roam him up and down, and once again Cillian had the odd and distinctly uncomfortable feeling she was judging him. "Did you send for me to be your maid? Or perhaps you sent for me to be your whore? I might imagine you'd have both aplenty, for half the cost, though I'm certain you can well afford it." The cost didn't matter to him. Firth had coffers overflowing with riches, and his father had granted him a more than generous allowance. His mother had left him lands and estates that brought him income of his own, too.

  "It's not the cost." If the chit thought it was the cost of her keeping that was slicing at his nerves, she was stupid.

  She moved toward him with that same look of assessment. "So what is it then? If I'm to be your maid or your whore, I still need to know what it is you like before I can grant it. And you have to give me the tools to provide it."

  He loosed the knot at his waist and opened the robe, then flung it off so he stood naked before her. His cock, already half hard as was usual upon rising, thickened under her gaze. Cillian swept his hands down his body.

  "Here's the tool you can use if you're to act as my whore."

  "Very nice," Honesty murmured.

  Her response took the steam from his engine. When she undid the row of buttons at her throat to her waist with quick, practiced fingers and shrugged out of her gown and shift to stand naked before him, his mouth dried. He'd paid little thought to what she would look like, his imaginary Handmaiden, only of what she would do for him. Forced now to look upon her full, rounded breasts, her luscious curving backside, he had to admit she was perfection.

  "Do you like what you see?" Her words oozed over him as low and liquid as molten sugar.

  "No. I don't."

  She dared to grin at him as she sank to her knees. She untied the cord holding the end of her braid and finger-combed her hair until it fell over her shoulders, those creamy, pink-tipped breasts, and down her back to tickle the underside of her sweetly curving ass.

  "Now?"

  Muscles clenched deep in his groin as heat surged in his gut. She slid her knees apart a little, enough to show him a hint of her pink slit beneath her dark pubic curls. Her nipples, Void take her, had gone tight and begged for his mouth on them.

  "I want you to go," he managed, but his cock betrayed him by rising. "Get out."

  "You don't want me to go," Honesty said.

  Then she took him into her mouth, and Cillian was lost.

  What had she learned thus far but that he was a man consumed with fury? A man whose position granted him whatever he pleased and whenever it pleased him, and yet the smallest balk could send him into a rage. Leading him to solace would be like putting a recalcitrant horse into harness. It would take a great deal of effort and mayhap a long time.

  Honesty had suffered long assignments in the past, but now . . . now things had changed for her, and all she could think of was how fast she could bring this cranky man to some semblance of peace, no matter how brief, so that she might return to the Motherhouse. The Order taught them every patron was unique, but Honesty had dealt with men like Cillian before. They could be assuaged with submission, soothed with pleasure. Sometimes, it was the only way to distract them from their greater anger. But that wasn't why she put his cock into her mouth. Honesty had a simpler reason than that. She wanted to taste him. She wanted to hear him cry out, feel his thighs tremble, feel his hands tangle in her hair as he jetted his pleasure into her mouth. She wanted to prove to him she was not a thing, she was a person. Women we begin and women we shall end was the Order's fifth principle, and just then, Honesty was all woman.

  He groaned when she sank his cock so deep it nudged the back of her throat. She hummed as she withdrew, pausing at the head of his prick to suck and lick before sliding down again. The thick carpet under her knees cradled them so she could do this for an hour, should he last that long.

  "By the Arrow, your mouth is a delight," he said in a low, strained voice. Honesty gripped his cock at the base and stroked upward along his hot flesh, slick from her mouth. His chair was close, and he might need it. "Sit, and I'll do even better." He sat and she knelt between his legs to take him in her mouth again. Cillian thrust upward as his hands gripped the chair. His harsh, panting breaths were music to her, as was the creak of leather and wood as the chair moved under him when he moved to meet every suck and lick she provided.

  This was for him, but oh, by the Arrow, it was for her, too, and Honesty let herself fall into the sweet oblivion of giving pleasure. It had been so long she feared she might have forgotten how, but just as her hand crept unerringly to her lap to twist and stroke, so did her mouth recall just how to move.

  Cillian cried out, hoarse. His prick pulsed against her tongue. Honesty, circling with a fingertip, shuddered on the cusp of her own climax as she eased off from granting his. Cillian muttered a curse and thrust harder, but Honesty used her free hand to grip and hold him still.

  Panting, Cillian glared down at her as she fought to catch her breath. "Don't stop!"

  "I would make this last," she said. Her finger slowed against her flesh and she dipped it inside her well to withdraw it, glistening.

  She painted his cock with the evidence of her arousal, and Cillian gave a low, short groan at the sight.

  His hands dented the soft leather arms of the chair, and he cursed again. She made a tunnel of her fist for him to fuck into while she laved his sensitive balls and used her other hand to bring herself to the edge over and over without giving in to sweet orgasm. Taking him once more into her mouth, she juggled their individual pleasures until at last she could no longer keep herself from tipping into a climax so fierce it shook her entire body.

  Cillian came in silence. He flooded her with his ecstasy, and the chair fair shook to pieces with the force of their rocking, but he climaxed without a sound. Still shaken from her own orgasm, Honesty could only be a bit disappointed she hadn't moved him to a shout. She sat back, well satisfied with his taste clinging to her tongue. Cillian had thrown back his head, eyes closed. He opened them to look at her.

  Honesty stood and took no small enjoyment in the way his gaze traveled over her body before focusing on her face. Naked, she went to the table and poured them both cups of cool water and pressed one into his hand before drinking her own. Cillian drained his and let the cup drop to the floor, where it bounced on the thick rug. He swiped his lips with the back of his hand and straightened in the chair.

  He didn't look angry anymore.

  "You're smiling," he said. "Is that because you've pleased me, or because you pleased yourself?"

  Honesty finished her water and set down the cup, then retrieved her shift and tugged it over her head. She braided her hair as she answered him. "Both." She bent to grab up his robe and handed it to him. "I'll draw you a bath." She felt him watching her as she left the room, and another smile tugged her lips. She was learning him, but he would need to learn her, as well. She filled the tub with hot, clear water and gathered the soap, soft cloth, and rinsing bucket from their places in one of the cabinets. By the time she'd finished, Cillian stood in the doorway.

  "You'll wash me?" He sounded wary.

  "Would you like me to?"

  "I have to tell you?"

  She studied him, knowing what he'd expected and what she would be able to grant him would likely be quite different. "Only once. Because after that,