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Rough Gentleman by Maggie Carpenter – Extended Preview

As the carriage made its way to the house, Connie came to grips with the startling memories. She hadn’t been holding the shovel as the butler had claimed, and he would have seen the French doors were open. Perhaps others did too. She couldn’t fathom such a cruel betrayal, but as the carriage turned through tall, wrought-iron gates, her attention was snatched away.

Malcolm’s country home was more like a country castle.

Beautiful gardens and a forever green lawn sat in front of a majestic house. She found it impossible to imagine how a village couple could care for such a large estate.

“You’re surprised,” Mrs. Melville declared.

“I don’t understand. I was expecting a much smaller property. How can two people possibly take care of it?”

“Now that you’re here I’m sure Mr. Mead won’t mind me telling you. There’s a permanent staff, and though he does have use of the entire house, he prefers having his own private apartment. He has taken over the east wing at the rear overlooking the woods. Lady Edith and the countess spend quite a bit of time here, but Mr. Mead’s wing is off-limits to everyone except the Hendersons. You see, we’re continuing past the front door.”

“Where will you and Baker be staying?”

“We dine with the servants, but we don’t sleep in their quarters. There are accommodations for us closer to Mr. Mead’s wing.”

“He’s a most unusual man,” Connie murmured.

“I would have to agree,” Baker declared. “A gentleman to be sure, but one with many unique qualities.”

The carriages rolled to a stop. Baker stepped out, then held the door for Mrs. Melville and Connie. Stepping down, she looked across to the woods at the edge of landscaped grounds, then up at the magnificent home.

A gentleman to be sure, but one with many unique qualities.

Baker had described Malcolm perfectly.

The man who had rescued her and stolen her heart was marching toward them. With his tall, wide, muscular frame set against the backdrop of the forest, he looked like exactly what he was. A gentleman, yet the son of a humble groundskeeper. A squire, but also a rough man who trudged through treacherous terrain as easily as he strolled down Oxford Street.

“Betwixt and between,” she murmured.

“Shall we go inside?” he asked, his lips sporting a devilish grin and a wicked glint dancing in his eyes.

“I have so many questions,” she said as he led her away from Mrs. Melville and Baker.

“I’m sure you do,” he replied, guiding her up several steps to an expansive terrace, “but they’ll have to wait.”

“Will you take me on a tour of the entire home?”

“I’m not sure that’s wise just yet. We may be out in the country, but it’s not another planet. God forbid a servant recognizes you.”

“Oh, I hadn’t thought about that.”

“We don’t have to worry about the Hendersons. They wouldn’t breathe a word,” he said, opening glass-paned double doors and ushering her inside. “I’ve known them since I first walked into this house.”

“This is beautiful,” she remarked as he led her through an elegantly furnished room. “How lovely it must be to relax in here. Watching the snow in winter would be heavenly.”

“It is, and you will,” he said softly, shooting her a wink, then strode quickly from the room and down a wide hallway.

“Where are we going?”

“To a place we won’t be disturbed.”

Paneled in polished wood, the walls boasted impressive artwork and medieval sconces.

“How old is this place?”

“It’s been in the Whitby family for generations,” he replied, abruptly stopping in front of an oil painting.

Her pulse ticking up, she watched him quickly glance in both directions, then grasp a sconce and tug it down. A panel swung open, leaving a space just wide enough to slide through.

“My gosh, Malcolm…” she breathed, excitement pulsing through her body.

“Surprise! It will be pitch black, but only for a moment.”

Taking her hand, he led her through the narrow opening.

The panel creaked back into place, but only a second passed before a lamp illuminated the room. She spied a wide chaise lounge and a table, but before she could look further, his arm came around her waist and yanked her into his body.

“I must have you,” he growled, “all of you. I must strip you naked and devour your body.”

As the train had chugged its way through the countryside, when Malcolm finished making his notes, he decided to take a quick look at A Pirate’s Pleasure. He hadn’t read the salacious story for a couple of years and it seemed a fitting prelude to the nights ahead. By the time the train had slowed to a stop at the station, the tantalizing tale and scenes of debauchery consumed his imagination.

Stepping onto the platform and spying the distressed look on Connie’s face he’d been temporarily distracted, but during the short journey to his house, the thought of finally being alone with her had made his blood run hot. Now they were finally in his secret room, he ached to slide his member into her pristine womanhood and make her his own.

“Malcolm,” she whispered, gazing up at him with longing in her deep green eyes, “I want nothing more. Do what you will.”

He didn’t hesitate.

Sweeping her up and carrying her to the chaise lounge, he didn’t slowly disrobe her, but removed her clothes in haste, then quickly stripping, he rested his body on top of hers.

“You can whimper or scream, we will not be heard,” he said huskily, pressing his lips against her neck. “Be free, my love, be free.”

Letting out a cry, she threw her legs around his waist and her arms behind his neck, but he abruptly raised his torso, grabbed her wrists, and pinned them above her head.

“Feel my stiff rod against your belly!”

“Malcolm,” she panted, “I can hardly believe this is happening. I used to wonder what it would be like to be taken as the pirate takes his wife, now I’m no longer happy just wondering, I must know.”

“And now you will, but first…”

Lowering his lips to her breasts, he drew in a nipple, sucking hungrily until her soft moans became loud cries. Only then did he move to its twin, but she writhed beneath him.

“Be still!”

She paused, her chest rising and falling with her ragged breaths, but a moment later she began squirming again. Moving his body so his cock fell between her legs, he lowered his weight on top of her.

“Ooh, Sir, you’re so heavy. You’ll crush me.”

“No, I won’t crush you, but I won’t shift either, not until you promise to behave.”

“I will, I swear. Please don’t stop what you were doing.”

“You need to feel my control,” he said, his voice a deep rasp as he pressed his lips against her neck. “You must learn to do as I say, and I’ll make sure you do.”

Shivers rippled down Connie’s spine. Malcolm had read her thoughts as though she’d spoken them aloud.

“You’re right,” she mewled. “I wanted to feel you take hold of me. I won’t do it again. If I wriggle it will be from passion and lust, I promise.”

Raising his head, he stared down at her for a moment, then suddenly pressed his lips on hers in a fevered kiss, dancing his tongue in her mouth and biting her lips.

“I’m going to test your wetness,” he whispered as he pulled back, “and you’re to remain completely still. You may cry out, but you must not move.”

“Test my wetness?” she repeated, her heart racing as he released her wrists and rolled off her.

“Your womanhood must be slick and ready. You know that.”

“But to hear you say it makes—”

Slipping his fingers between her legs cut her off. His touch sparked her body even more than when she’d so brazenly offered herself in his salon.

“Ah, yes, just as I suspected,” he muttered, exploring inside her velvet folds. “You’re dripping. Remember, remain completely still. Show me your obedience.”

As he pushed his finger into her channel and shoved it in and out, desperate to wriggle but determined to follow his instruction, she closed her eyes and curled her fingers into a ball.

“Good girl,” he crooned, adding a second finger and thrusting forcefully. “Mmm, lovely. Your womanhood opens for me so well. You may move now.”

“Thank you, Sir,” she panted. “I have never felt so…”

But there were no words.

As he pushed her legs apart and kneaded her inner thighs, all she could manage was a long, deep, grateful moan.

“You’ve never felt so alive,” he said huskily, traveling his palm slowly over her stomach and continuing upward to clutch her breasts.

“Yes, yes. You’re right!” she bleated. “I’ve never felt so alive.”

“I feel the same,” he murmured, nipping her nipples. “Do not doubt for a moment how much I’ve come to care for you.”

“Malcolm, I care for you too, so very much. I, uh, I more than care for you.”

He paused, then lifting his head, he held her gaze.

“It must be said. I love you, Connie. Deeply and profoundly.”

His voice had softened, and an odd crease crossed his brow.

“Malcolm, will we ever be free and truly together?” she whimpered. “Will I ever walk down the street with you, out in the open, the world knowing I’m innocent?”

“Yes, I promise it,” he vowed fiercely, curling his fingers tightly into her hair. “They will not beat us.”

His lips returned to hers in a crushing kiss, and thrusting his free hand against her womanhood, he vigorously rubbed her clit, then spanked the soft, tender flesh of her inner thighs. The hot sting took her by surprise, but her muffled squeals didn’t stop him. Moving his palm to her sex, he slapped her swollen pussy. She tried to close her legs, but he abruptly jerked up his head and glowered down at her.

“Don’t you dare! Spread them! Now!”

His voice was deep. Stern. Threatening.

An erotic thrill shuddered through her body.

“Leave your legs apart and your eyes on mine.”

Her breath a series of gasps, she hastily opened her legs and squeezed her eyes shut as the hot, prickling slaps on the inside of her thighs began anew.

“Sir, it hurts! Have I been bad?”

“When you interfere I must start again. Remember that in the future. A few more, then I will turn my attention back to your wet womanhood. Trust me, Connie. Trust me and prepare yourself.”

His hand continued to land with its hot sting, moving ever close to her sex.

“Are you ready?”

“Yes, Sir,” she whimpered, sucking in a deep breath.

The first smack hit, then the second and third, but abruptly the slaps accelerated.

Pain and pleasure swept her away.

His teeth bit her nipples.

Heat flamed through her body.

Spasms seized her.

Scintillating tingles coursed through her limbs.

Her euphoric yelps filled the chamber, then slowly dissolved leaving her breathless and spent.

Gazing down at Connie’s limp body, Malcolm soothed her womanhood and thighs with a comforting caress. Slowly opening her eyes, she stared up at him and let out a contented sigh.

“Malcolm, that was amazing. You’re amazing.”

“Not nearly as amazing as you,” he said softly, lowering his head and gliding his lips over hers in a warm, loving kiss.

“I never knew I could feel so much.”

“You’re about to feel even more,” he whispered, pushing his finger into her drenched channel. “You’re ready for me.”

“I, uh, I want you inside me so badly, but, uh…”

“Connie… have you changed your mind?”

“Not exactly.”

“You must never be afraid to share what’s in your heart. Tell me.”

“I know I said I didn’t care about society’s rules, and I don’t—it’s just—how do I say this?”

“You don’t have to,” he said knowingly. “In spite of everything that’s happened, you want your first time to be on your wedding night.”

“I don’t understand why I feel it so strongly. I didn’t before.”

“You’ve been living in a constant state of confusion and fear. Now you’re safe, you can think clearly. Being with me completely is crossing a line from which there is no return. It’s the ultimate gift. One reserved for your wedded husband.”

“I’m so sorry. I do love you with all my heart, and I do so long to be with you.”

“Never apologize for being true to yourself.”

“You’re not upset with me?”

“No, my love, of course not—but,” he continued, a wicked grin curling his lips as he tickled her clit, “I’m not finished with you yet.”

“Ooh, that feels so good.”

“Place yourself on your hands and knees.”

“Must I move?”

“I just gave you an instruction,” he said sternly, pinching her thigh.

“Ouch. Sorry, Sir.”

As she rolled on her stomach and rose up on all fours, he pushed her legs apart, kneeled between them, and wrapped his fingers around his stiffened cock. Feasting his eyes on her full, plump cheeks, he stroked himself for a moment, then placed his member between her thighs, tantalizingly close to her entrance. He heard her gasp.

“Fear not, sweet Connie. I won’t enter you.”

“I know,” came her whimpered reply. “More’s the pity.”

“Squeeze your legs together.”

As her luscious inner thighs closed against him, he grabbed her hips and began thrusting, her soaked pussy coating him as he pumped. Increasing his speed, he released one of her hips to smooth his hand over her beautiful backside.

“Much too pale,” he muttered, landing a solid swat.


“I hope that wasn’t a complaint,” he said gruffly, landing another on the opposite globe.

“No, Sir.”

“Your bottom will be as red as I wish,” he added sternly, delivering more hot slaps as he continued to vigorously pump against her womanhood.

He wanted her to enjoy another climax, and with every thrust his rigid rod brushed against her clit, but he was nearing his release. Her gasps and moans told him her arousal was growing, but lagged behind his. She needed a boost—a thrill—something to push her over the edge.

“You’re going to climax, Connie,” he declared, slipping his thumb between the cleft of her cheeks and touching her rosebud.



Issuing the command, he sent his thumb into her dark, forbidden hole. Her shocked shriek echoed through the room, but a moment later she let out a wild, euphoric cry. Writhing violently, she bucked back against him, sending his thumb deeper into her prohibited passage.

His orgasm seized him, his essence spewed between her thighs, and his deep groans filled the room. Crackling sensations shot through his limbs, then abruptly waned. But her feral gyrations continued unabated until he carefully pulled his thumb from the decadent portal, and with a soft moan, she dropped on her stomach.

Collapsing beside her, he brought her into his arms. Still catching his breath, he listened to her soft sighs, then closing his eyes he joined her to drift in the serenity of their post-orgasmic bliss.

“Lunch?” he finally murmured.

“Will Mrs. Henderson be wondering where we are?”

“Probably, but it doesn’t matter. I’ll show you to your room. It’s next to mine. We can freshen up then go to the dining room.”

“I’m absolutely ravenous,” she muttered, then with a giggle, she added, “I can’t imagine why.”

“Always so cheeky. I’m hungry too, but I have an idea,” he said solemnly, propping himself up on an elbow. “Connie, there’s something very special I want us to do tomorrow.”

Lowering his lips to her ear, he whispered his thought.

“Can we do that?” she asked breathlessly as he lifted his head. “Really? You want to? Can we?”

“Yes, we can, and yes I want to… if you do. I can send a footman into the village with a note.”

“I think it’s the best idea in the history of ideas,” she squealed, throwing her arms around his neck. “Thank you. I’ll never forget this moment for as long as I live.”

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