To Charm a Bluestocking

by Renée Dahlia

  ‘You are the perfect height,’ he murmured against her skin. ‘Tall enough to kiss even when you are too far from me.’

  She raised her head, breaking their connection.

  ‘Too far?’ she asked. ‘I am as close as it is possible to be.’

  ‘Almost,’ he breathed against her cheek. ‘Almost.’ He nibbled kisses up around her eyes and across her eyelids. The gentle touch of his lips and the faint scratch of his stubble against her skin sent skitters of heat down to her damp curls. She shifted against him, only to be prodded by the now warm tin.

  ‘Shall I?’ she said.

  ‘Yes.’ His agreement came out in a guttural voice. It rumbled deep through his chest and caused a vibration against her. She slid her hands between them and pressed on his chest to push herself back upright. A cool zephyr breezed past. Her nipples peaked, straining towards him. He must have known. His eyes darkened, turning a deep ocean blue. She reached for the tin and watched as he shifted his hands. He let go of the rug and swept his hands up her knees. Skimmed past her hips, around her waist until he cupped her breasts. She clutched the tin as his clever fingers toyed with her. Pleasure built. Again. Her body pressed down against his of its own accord. Her secret, wet place pushed against his thighs. His erection proud in front of her. His stomach muscles taut as he reached for her. She panted. She wanted all of him.

  She clicked open the tin. Too fast. The contents scattered across him. He barked out a laugh as his hands fell away and his head rested back on the rug. His body shook against hers as pleasure faded. Her face aflame, she leant forward to tidy up. Just as he tried to sit up and help. Her forehead bumped his.

  ‘Ouch.’ He laughed.

  ‘Oh gosh. Your wound,’ she said. This was ridiculous. The price she paid for being so intense. Now she had thrown the rubbers about the room and bashed him on his injury. Her heart went from racing to pounding as she twisted around. Her hands wildly tried to make amends. To clean up the mess.

  ‘Relax. You didn’t injure me,’ he said. He sat up, so close that his breath whispered against her lips. She sat on his legs, cradled by him. He rested his hands on her shoulders and slowly massaged away her tension. She looked away from the rug and her disaster, and into his eyes. The dark lust had gone and the normal charming blue sparkled back at her.

  ‘This is a disaster,’ she sighed.

  ‘It’s not.’ His hands continued to soothe as he spoke with his face just inches from hers.

  ‘Yes, it is. Isn’t it?’

  He grinned at her words. The laugh lines around his eyes crinkled as his lips moved into a broad smile.

  ‘It hardly counts as a disaster to have a beautiful, thoroughly naked woman in my arms. From where I sit, this is rather perfect,’ he said. She saw the truth in his eyes and nodded. That motion gave her a glimpse of his hard erection straining up between them.

  She pressed a hard kiss against his mouth. She leant forward until her nipples grazed his firm chest. Then leant harder against him so she covered him and his erection was pressed between them.

  ‘Not a disaster.’ The words fell out of him on a groan. She looked away and saw the tin with one rubber still inside. She sat up straight, grabbed the rubber and started to put it on. Her hands trembled, a mix of desire and a need to fix this. He might not think this was a disaster, but that sense still lingered.

  ‘You’ve never done this before, have you?’ She shook her head.

  ‘Only on a demonstration model. Made of wood,’ she said. He closed his eyes and pinched his lips together. She’d seen the flash in his eyes before he’d closed them, and she had to know what he’d thought and not said.

  ‘I’ve heard many terms for it, but never that one,’ he said between clenched teeth. His entire torso shook. Was he laughing at her? Curiosity won.

  ‘There are other names for it?’ she said. Her and her friends had been kept out of those lectures for the sake of their fragile feminine sensibilities. Claire, of course, had found several books in the library for them to read. And they’d had to teach other women in the hospital.

  ‘Many,’ he said. He held his finger against her lips. ‘Not now. I promise I will satisfy your curiosity about words later.’

  ‘Naturally, let’s deal with your curiosity first,’ she said. He roared with laughter and her lungs filled with warmth. His hands dropped down and met hers. He helped her with the rubber and together they slid on the contraceptive device. Before he could take control, she pushed him in the chest. Her hands pressed him down into the rug and her stomach grazed lightly on his now captured erection. She slid herself up the length of it and grinned as he growled. As she slid forward up his body, her breasts hung low until they reached his mouth. He held them, idolised them, and sucked each in turn. She gasped at the sheer pleasure of it, and relaxed down until her breasts surrounded his face. His breath was hot on her skin. His tongue flicked at her nipples and she moaned.

  ‘I am rather curious,’ she said. Or at least that’s what she hoped she’d said. With the wondrous build-up of pleasure that fired through her with the motion of his tongue, she may have just moaned utter gibberish.

  ‘Shall we?’ he asked, his voice muffled as he spoke against her skin.

  ‘Oh yes … yes.’ She was wet and ready for him. He swept his hands down her sides, slowing as he reached lower. His hands hovered on her backside. To stop there and just hold her. She wriggled as his erection nudged against her. Her arms trembled as she used them to grip his shoulders to help him. He kept one hand on her hip and the other caressed down until he slid a finger inside. A hot rush of desire raced across her skin. Slowly, he guided himself in and she eased down onto his length.

  It was deliciously slow as she eased her way. She’d read the books and had a fair idea of the mechanics of the process. But to feel it was completely different. Her muscles stretched as he filled her, or perhaps as she surrounded him. His hand gripped her hip, firm yet still acceding control to her. A pinch of pain. She paused, just long enough for him to slide his hands up her sides and across her back. He held her, drawing her body close against his. He kissed her neck, sucked. She inhaled air in a long, slow breath. The pain below eased. Replaced with pleasure. She moaned as her body asked for the final glory. He kissed her mouth deeply, drank in her unrestrained moans, and helped her as she sank all the way.

  She was above him, yet surrounded by his heat. Their skin slick between them as he started to rock into her. With every thrust she moaned into his kiss until the world faded around her. There was only them. Together. She started to move with him and felt him grin against her lips. She would have grinned back, but waves of euphoria transported her to another world where tension grew until she sobbed with need. He wrapped his hands around her bottom and thrust deep. She shattered. Unravelled, as waves of ecstasy rolled through her body. She slumped against his shoulder.

  He wasn’t done yet. He released his arms and the next moment she sat in his lap as he cradled her. He thrust upwards into her. Once. Twice. More, until she lost count and came apart again as he came with her. They sat intertwined on the rug. Just breathing against each other. Her body relaxed against his. His scent, that warm cinnamon mixed with a new scent. Fresh sweat and sex. Them. She breathed it in. She could have stayed there, if not forever, but for a long time.

  Except that he chuckled. The laugh rumbled through him and into her. She lifted her head to look at him. Curious, although too satisfied to bother with a question.

  ‘In certain circles, that position is called Riding St. George,’ he said with a hint of gravel in his voice.

  ‘Surely, you jest,’ she snickered.

  ‘No joke,’ he said, although his eyes twinkled with laughter.

  ‘You’ve certainly been ridden, my Lord,’ she said. He roared with laughter and hugged her tighter.

  ‘I love you, Josephine. Please, be my wife.’

  ‘Only if I can ride you again,’ she said.

  ‘God, yes.’

&nb
sp; Chapter 20

  ‘That’s it. Pencils down.’

  Josephine laid her pencil next to her exam paper and leant back in her chair. She crossed her arms and slowly smiled. It was finished. She had done everything she could to complete a medical degree. Only the marking to go, which was out of her control. A lightness spread through her chest and she stared, unfocused at the end of the room.

  Around her, exam supervisors walked along the rows of students collecting exam papers. The sound of paper and footsteps hardly broke through the gathering giddiness in her as the relief and satisfaction sunk deep. Noise broke out as the students pushed their chairs back, grabbed their belongings and rushed out the door. Josephine blinked away the desire to sit still and enjoy the moment. She stood to join the affray as everyone pushed and shoved to get out of there. Claire bounded up to her with a huge grin on her face.

  ‘We did it,’ she said, her eyes alight with joy. Marie came over and grabbed them both into a fierce hug.

  ‘Oh my goodness! Can you believe it!’ she proclaimed loudly and Josephine couldn’t help but laugh at her friend’s enthusiasm.

  ‘It’s a pretty great feeling,’ she said, stepping out of the hug.

  ‘Let’s celebrate,’ said Claire. ‘A new restaurant opened near my place called the Three Sisters. It’s an omen. We have to try it.’ Claire grabbed each of her friends by an arm, so the three were linked together. They almost skipped out of the room.

  ‘To freedom,’ laughed Marie as they approached the front door.

  ‘It does feel something like that,’ agreed Josephine. ‘All that work is done. Now it’s time to plan the next step.’

  ‘No, it’s not. It’s time to eat and celebrate. We can plan later,’ said Claire scoffingly as she tugged her friends along the corridor. ‘Let’s grab a hackney cab, but first I need to use the necessary.’

  Claire marched them towards the facilities that had been set up for the women students. Awkwardly located out of the way, an old storage room had been altered to give the few female students a place for ablutions and so on. It had previously had some basic plumbing with a sink, and had been a place for the janitors to eat their lunch out of sight. A hasty renovation ensured the room included all the necessary plumbing for the female students. Although it was fitted with the latest in toilet technology, the room still represented how the majority of society felt about female education. Hidden away down a side corridor, a room repurposed without much care. The facility wasn’t cleaned by the university janitors who resented the loss of their private lunch space. Josephine, Marie, Claire and the few other women students from other faculties kept it clean themselves. They had brought in a few small artworks and a mirror to brighten the dingy space, and Claire had donated a couple of chairs.

  They entered together and went about their private business as required. Josephine stood restless as she waited for her friends to primp their hair and fuss with their clothes. She opened the door, intending to pace in the corridor outside where there was more room. She walked into the corridor, the movement helping with the sense of unease. She quelled a shiver and rubbed the hair that raised on the back of her neck. Something was wrong. Now the final exam was done, she couldn’t help but worry that she would have to repeat the surgical assessment before being allowed to graduate. She walked along the corridor staring at the floor and frowning. She ought to be happy that she was finished. She should be pleased that she had resolved the situation with Nicholas. She would be his wife. She should be dancing with glee. Why couldn’t she shake this sense of foreboding?

  ‘I knew I’d find you here. And all alone too. Perfect.’ Josephine stopped in her tracks as Van Percy made his proclamation. His voice brought a bitter tang to her mouth. She stepped backwards, but he reached out and grabbed her arms.

  ‘You are coming with me,’ he said in a clipped voice. Josephine struggled to get away from him, but he dug his fingernails in tight. Tiny droplets of blood marred the flesh on her arm. She tugged with all her might, but he held strong.

  ‘Don’t fight me. I have something you want,’ he sneered at her.

  ‘What?’ she said fiercely.

  ‘The surgical assessment. Pass or fail. I control your result,’ he said with a slight grin that had no joy in it. Her skin crawled at his sinister tone.

  ‘Let me go. Then we can talk,’ she said torn between giving him what he wanted and her massive desire to pass the assessment. She’d lost two of her three patients. By rights, he should fail her. She wondered what he wanted and thought about how to negotiate. Diplomacy. Not her strong point. She stared at him and shook her arms but he didn’t let go. He merely stood next to her, leaving one arm and tucking the other firmly against his side. He laid his other hand over her arm so he had a double grip on her.

  ‘Walk with me,’ he said. Josephine blinked at the command unable to do anything but comply with his solid grip. He was surprisingly strong. Van Percy strode along the corridor and around a corner, away from her friends, and away from anyone who might be able to help her.

  ‘Keep walking and I will outline the plan,’ he said. Josephine kept her head high, her back straight and strong and walked with him. Given what Nicholas had told her about Van Percy and his brother, Josephine had no illusion that she was safe. This action by Van Percy meant that she was probably in considerable danger. He wanted her with a desperation that made her feel unclean. It had been an illusion before, letting herself think that Nicholas had done enough to make Van Percy remove himself. She wanted to know what Van Percy had planned. She pondered whether she would be able to escape him. He was about the same height as her although he had a strength advantage. She might be able to surprise him if she kept her wits about her.

  ‘It has taken too long to bring you to heel. I have decided on this plan instead. You, my dear Josephine, will provide the means for both my brother’s release and the funds for my ambition.’ Van Percy spoke calmly to Josephine as he walked swiftly along the main corridor. To any observer, it would seem like they were merely having a friendly discussion. With her arm linked in his, people might even consider them to be lovers wishing to speed their way to a private room. Bile rose in the back of her throat. Josephine swallowed it away and tried to keep her expression neutral. She couldn’t let her disgust show. She needed every advantage, and didn’t want to spook Van Percy.

  He tugged at her arm and ducked down another side hallway. This one took him through a lecture theatre and across to the other side of the building. From there, he marched Josephine out a back door, typically reserved for cleaners, and along a side path to a laneway that led to the road that looped around the back of the building. It was the service entrance for the main administration block and, as such, was a road that Josephine had never been on. There was a carriage parked at the end of a short alleyway. As Van Percy opened the door to the carriage, Josephine realised this had been a carefully constructed plan. He pushed her inside and locked the door. She had been kidnapped.

  She rattled the door on the other side of the carriage, but of course, that was locked as well. She shook the door handle. Her hands were slippery with sweat and her eyes filled with hot tears. She fell back onto the seat and squeezed her eyes shut. She curled her knees up under her skirts and held herself tight as her whole body shook. Her breath came out shallow and rapid and the sound of her heart pounded in her ears.

  The carriage jerked and she grabbed at the seat so she didn’t fall. She pressed her nose against the tiny window, overtaken by the compulsion to look behind her. Her breaths coated the window in a fog; a reflection of the fog in her brain. As the carriage rolled along the bumpy cobbled streets, each thud started to seep in. This panic wasn’t going to solve anything. She concentrated on slowing her breaths. She had to save herself.

  She wiped the fog off the window. Nothing was familiar. How long had she been in this carriage? What direction was he taking her? Surely, by now, her friends would have realised she was missing. Hopefully they had the s
ense to know that she wouldn’t have just left them and walked off by herself. Hopefully, they would go to Nicholas for help. She tried to place herself in the carriage so she could see out both sides, and desperately tried to find a landmark that she recognised. She needed to know where she was, or maybe even work out where Van Percy was taking her.

  They rumbled along the streets for quite a while. Josephine wasn’t sure exactly how long. It was nigh-on impossible to get a sense for time. The streets were narrow, the houses less well maintained and Josephine didn’t recognise anything. Eventually, the carriage stopped. Josephine knew that she needed to decide. Quickly. Would she rush the door and attempt to run out and escape? Would she stay and see what happened next? The first option appealed, yet there was the problem that she didn’t know where she was or what she would be rushing into. What if Van Percy had a whole crowd out there?

  In the end, her indecision made her choice for her. She cursed under her breath. She’d wasted too much time thinking. Van Percy opened the door and climbed in with her. Josephine shrunk back in the corner as he took up all the space in the carriage. He reached out and grabbed her hair pulling her face towards him. She struggled, imagining the worst, when instead he placed a cloth over her mouth.

  Years of experience hit her in an instant. She knew that sickly sweet smell. Chloroform. She drifted away under the influence of the knock-out drug.

  ‘Sign here,’ a voice said as Josephine came out of the darkness. Her throat was dry and her eyelids sticky. Josephine forced her eyes open. Everything was slightly blurry as if she was looking through a dirty window. Something stabbed her in the hand.