by Cheryl Holt
She’d wondered what it would be like to engage in the marital act, and she wasn’t worried about a child catching in her womb. There were secret herbs that could prevent it from occurring. They weren’t always successful, but they usually were.
As he’d slumbered so deeply, he hadn’t noticed when she’d climbed out of bed, when she’d tiptoed around and had taken off her clothes. She was dressed only in her robe, with nothing on underneath. She waited until the sun crested the eastern horizon, then she nodded out to the day.
This was what she wanted to have happen. This was what she picked for herself.
She shook the robe off her shoulders, hurried over, and slid under the blanket. Her hasty arrival roused him, and apparently, he’d forgotten where he was because he glanced about frantically. Then comprehension settled in, and he relaxed down.
He laid an arm across her waist and pulled her to him, and of course, she was naked.
“Joanna James!” There was a teasing gleam in his eye. “It appears to me that your clothes have vanished. What are you thinking?”
She leaned in and kissed him before she lost her nerve. He kissed her back with an incredible amount of enthusiasm, and his obvious eagerness quelled her doubts. It would be all right. She wouldn’t contemplate a bad ending.
“I want to do this with you,” she told him as their lips parted.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“You might have given me some warning. You’ve shocked me so completely; we’re lucky I didn’t suffer an apoplexy.”
“Heaven forbid.”
“Why me though? You’re offering a precious gift you should save for your husband.”
“I don’t intend to ever have a husband, remember?”
“You constantly tell me that, but I’m not convinced you really mean it.”
“And I’m not a debutante. I’m not protecting my virtue so my father can sell me to the highest aristocratic bidder. I’m an adult woman who can make her own choices. I choose you to be the one.”
He gazed at her fondly, but with enormous consternation too. She could practically see the wheels turning in his mind as he debated whether to oblige her. He was a lusty man who fervidly desired her, yet he was a gentleman too. According to the rules of his world, he wasn’t allowed to ruin a young lady.
There were laws against it. The Church declared it a sin. Society deemed it a great moral outrage.
“Don’t fret about it, Jacob,” she murmured.
“How can I not?” he absurdly replied. “Once we’re finished, I won’t drop to my knee and beseech you to marry me.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m not expecting that.”
“Yes, but what else can I bestow that you might consider valuable?”
“This isn’t a situation where we must barter over terms. I merely want to learn what it’s like. I’ve always been curious.”
“Do you know what happens? Have you ever been apprised?”
“I’ve delivered many babies, so yes, I have a good picture of how they’re created.”
“Well, it’s two very different things to be told verbally and to actually experience it.”
“I understand that it is, and I’d like you to show me how it can be. Please?”
It was horrid of her to add on that entreaty, but it stoked his vanity. After all, how often did a woman beg to be ruined? It helped to persuade him.
Men were very simple creatures. They could be easily led and manipulated so a female could garner what she required from them. The trick was to figure out the best method.
Apparently, his cerebral wrangling was over. “You have to promise me you’ll never be sorry.”
“I’m the one who suggested this. Why would I be sorry?”
“You’re seeking something from me that I’ll never be able to furnish. I would hate for you to be disappointed after you accept that I can’t supply what you’re hoping.”
“We should worry more about you than me. I’m clear as to what’s transpiring, but I don’t believe you have any idea.”
He snorted with amusement. “Where you are concerned, I’ve never had any idea of what I’m doing.”
She kissed him again. “Trust me, Jacob. This will make me very happy.”
She stared at him, her gaze steady and firm, and he seemed to see what he was anxious to find. He shifted them so she was on her back and he was stretched out on top of her, and she sighed with delight. There was such naughty joy to be gained by him pressing her down into the mattress, and she reminded herself to pay attention so she’d never forget a single detail.
Still though, he didn’t move to begin, and she asked, “What’s wrong?”
“I’m so nervous. I’d like this to be special for you, but I’m not certain I’m skilled enough.”
“I disagree. You are a randy scoundrel who, I’m positive, has seduced women around the globe. It will be perfect.”
He smirked at that, and he dipped in and initiated his own kiss. It was sultry and delicious and brimming with wicked temptation.
He started playing her anatomy as if it were an instrument, nibbling, touching, caressing. All the while, he was whispering endearments, complimenting her, telling her how much he treasured her, how glad he was that she was his. She decided to share his view of the encounter.
She was his, and he was hers, and in the quiet dawn of her small bedroom, the outside world could never intrude.
Their passion swiftly escalated, their hips flexing together in the ancient carnal rhythm lovers relished. He was sucking on her nipples, stroking her between her legs, and with scant effort, he brought on a wave of pleasure that sent her soaring to the heavens.
As she tumbled down, she was sputtering, laughing, scolding him for being such a dissolute cad. She was putty in his arms, and he could goad her to behave in any shocking way.
He eased onto his haunches and tugged off his shirt, giving her her first glimpse of his bare chest. It was broad and smooth, muscled from strenuous endeavor, and she laid her palms on his skin. He hissed with a sort of delectable agony, and she didn’t suppose the ultimate event would last very long.
He’d desired her from the moment they’d met, and she’d never assuaged any of the lust she’d stirred in him. His restraint was just about gone.
“It’s your final chance, Joanna,” he said. “Are you still sure?”
She chuckled, but with exasperation. “Yes! You can’t talk me out of this.”
“It’s just that, if we continue, I can’t hold back. If you lose heart, I doubt I’ll be able to stop.”
“You shouldn’t hold back or stop. You must show me how thrilling it can truly be.”
“Gad, you’ll be the death of me. I just know it.”
That was all the conversation he could manage. He leapt into the fray again, and they raced toward a satisfying collision, but to her great frustration, her virginal tendencies kept trying to burst out. She’d catch herself quavering, debating whether she was really certain, and she’d have to physically force herself to relax.
She wanted this. She wanted him. She wasn’t confused about that.
He was touching her all over, massaging her breasts, as down below, he was opening his trousers. He did everything gradually so she could adjust. There was no need to panic. He widened her thighs, his torso dropping between them, then his cock was placed where it was so desperate to be.
It felt very strange though, and while she comprehended every facet of the mechanics necessary to get the act accomplished, she was overwhelmed and out of her element. She always assumed she was so smart, but not about this.
He wedged in the tip, and she tensed instinctively, but he whispered, “Don’t be afraid.”
“I’m not.”
“It will be over quickly.”
“I don’t
wish it to be quick. I wish it to go on forever.”
He laughed at the comment, and she told herself to remember how he looked right then: handsome and determined and overjoyed.
He nibbled on her nipples, and her passion rose again. As it crested, as she flew to the heavens, he flexed—once, twice—and he was fully impaled. She huffed out a soft breath, and he halted and peered down at her with such affection that tears surged into her eyes.
He appeared stricken. “You can’t be sad.”
“I’m not sad.”
“What is it then? Does it hurt?”
She frowned, took stock. “No. I’m . . . bewildered and happy.”
“Wrap your arms around me. Hold me tight.”
“Like this?”
“Yes, just like that.”
He started to move his hips, pushing into her, then pulling out. He watched her the whole time, and she watched him too, relishing the sentiments that spread across his face.
His motions were very deliberate, very sure, and she required a few minutes to get the hang of it. When she did, she participated with as much vigor as she could muster, but her enthusiasm propelled him to the brink.
He muttered a curse, then delivered several deep thrusts, and spilled himself against her womb. He was very still, planted far inside her, then he groaned and collapsed onto her. His weight pressed her down, but he didn’t feel heavy. He felt welcome and wonderful.
After a bit, he drew away, their bodies separating, and she winced, deciding her inner parts were more tender than she’d realized. For a day or two, she’d probably be sore, but she wouldn’t mind. Whenever there was a twinge of pain, she would reflect on why she was sore. It was a sensation she would cherish.
“What did you think?” he asked. “And be honest.”
“It’s was lovely. Truly lovely.”
He snorted. “I can’t tell if you’re lying or not.”
He rolled onto his back to stare at the ceiling, with her snuggled to his chest. This was the best piece of it, she thought, this intimate interval afterward. All of it seemed worth it just so they could arrive at this point.
“I have no idea what to say to you now,” he told her.
“What would be appropriate? Is there a script written somewhere that is supposed to provide guidance?”
“I wish there was. If I wasn’t such a scoundrel, I’d be down on my knees, proposing marriage.”
“Why? I have no desire to marry you.”
He harrumphed at that. “You understand, don’t you, that you have to be the only female in the kingdom who feels that way?”
“I hate to break this news to you, but you’re not much of a catch.”
“I am not?” He clucked his tongue. “I am Jacob Ralston, a renowned naval captain who’s descended from a lengthy line of national heroes. Every woman in the world longs to be my bride. What’s wrong with you?”
“You’re always gone, so your wife would never see you. Your ship is your real bride. What kind of life would a woman have, being wed to you?”
“It’s a vexing problem for every sailor.”
“It’s not a problem for any of you. It gives you the perfect excuse to pretend you’re still bachelors.”
He chuckled. “You could be right.”
“I never had a family,” she said. “When I was little, it was just me and my mother. Then, when I was returned to England, it was just me and Aunt Pru. Clara joined us later, almost by accident. That’s the extent of my kin, and I’ve chafed at having such a small circle to call my own.”
“If you had any notion of how crazed my mother used to be, or how bitterly I just quarreled with my sister, you wouldn’t be so quick to assume family is so great.”
“I’m also not interested in marriage because I’d never let a man boss me.”
“No man would dare.”
“But if I forged ahead, my husband would have to be madly in love with me. He’d have to remain by my side and not be gallivanting across the globe.”
“You’re a romantic at heart,” he said.
“Isn’t everyone?”
“Not me. I’m the most pragmatic person ever.”
She laughed. He was so confused about who he was, about what he wanted, about where he’d end up.
They were silent awhile, then he glanced over to the window. The sun had fully risen, and he asked, “What time would you guess it is?”
“I can’t imagine. Seven or so?”
“Could I tarry with you all day? Could we just not get out of bed?”
“No. You have to sneak out very soon. I have a maid who comes at nine to cook and clean. I can’t have her find you here. She’d drop dead from shock. Then I have to traipse to the village at noon to meet Clara. She’ll be home after that, and I especially can’t have her find you here.”
“It seems wrong for me to leave.”
“Yes, but we probably shouldn’t have done this. If you depart, we’ll have a period to ponder our actions—for we definitely didn’t ponder them earlier.”
“I feel like a green boy, seduced against his will.”
She laughed again. “As I remember it, you were quite willing. You didn’t voice a word of complaint.”
“What now?” He shifted them so they were facing each other. He looked younger than he was, and a tad puzzled. “How should we proceed?”
She was thinking that it was time to flee Ralston Place. She’d arrived at the estate when she was fourteen, so she’d had ten good years in her cottage in the woods.
But since he’d befriended her, she’d been accruing enemies. His sister refused to have Joanna socializing with him, and his fiancée would like her destroyed. There was the brewing danger too of Clara’s parents being so close by.
Her biggest concern was her burgeoning affection for him. She was desperately fond, maybe even in love, and she had her mother’s blood flowing in her veins. She was already calculating how she could pursue a furtive affair, but there was no such thing as a furtive affair. Reckless lovers were ultimately exposed.
She wouldn’t carry on as her mother had, wouldn’t grow overly attached to where she couldn’t pull away to safety. If they continued with their physical mischief, she’d have to constantly take herbs so she didn’t wind up with child, but they didn’t always work.
She was living proof of that. She couldn’t and wouldn’t loaf at Ralston Place until her belly swelled and gossip spread about who the father was. She wouldn’t humiliate herself like that.
She resided in such an isolated spot. She could pack her belongings and tiptoe away without anyone noticing. He’d simply visit one day, and she’d have vanished.
She wouldn’t share any of her musings though because she wouldn’t furnish him with a chance to prevent her. Instead, she said, “How should we proceed? Well, I was about to declare that this had to be our one and only dalliance, but I don’t imagine it will be possible for us to keep away from each other.”
“No, I can’t stay away. You’re like a disease in my blood, and I can’t cure myself.”
“We’ll have to be careful. Clara can never suspect.”
He shook his head with amazement and perhaps even a bit of alarm. “You are the strangest female. You’re so blasé about this, while I am completely bewildered.”
She rested a palm on his cheek. “I’m not blasé on the inside. I’m adept at hiding my feelings.”
He kissed her, then he drew away and sat up, his back to her, his feet on the floor. She lounged on the bed behind him, naked and well-used, like a harem girl who’d serviced her master.
“I should get going,” he said, but he didn’t move.
“I miss you already.”
She stroked a hand across his back, which imbued him with some energy. He stood and straightened his clothes, then he snorted miserably.
“I deflowered you, and I was in such a hurry, I didn’t even take off my boots. I can’t deny it now. I’m a cad and a bounder.”
“At our next assignation, I shall strip your garments away so I can inspect your delicious male body.”
“You talk like an experienced courtesan.”
“During birthings, I’ve heard women say things about men that would light your hair on fire.”
“I’ll bet you have.”
“I’ll send you a note when Clara will be away from home, but until I contact you, I wish you wouldn’t stop by. I can’t have her bond with you.”
He scowled ferociously. “Why not? She’s very sweet, and I like her.”
“Her life is as small as mine, and she’d expect us to begin making plans. I won’t raise her hopes.”
“I suppose I can consent to that, but you must promise you’ll summon me very soon. It can’t be too far in the future.”
“Clara will be at school on Monday, and I can tell the maid I don’t need her. How about that?”
“Three days . . .” he murmured, then he scoffed. “I guess I’ll survive—but no longer than that.”
“No longer.”
“Gad, I’m totally ensnared.” He bent down and kissed her, then he asked, “Will you walk me out?”
“I’m too lazy and I’m not dressed.”
“I can’t bear to leave.”
“I’ll see you in three days. The hours will pass rapidly.”
She wondered if she could pack and disappear that fast. If not, she could try to accomplish it the following week or the one after that. It wouldn’t necessarily be a tragedy if she enjoyed another romp with him before she departed.
“You were so upset when you arrived last night,” she said. “Have I soothed your woe?”
“Definitely.”
“Why were you fighting with your sister?”
“I’m too embarrassed to admit it.”
“Then I absolutely demand to be apprised.”
His cheeks flushed with chagrin. “She wants to marry Sandy. He asked for her hand, but I wouldn’t give them my blessing. They’re furious, and I’m devastated.”
“Why wouldn’t you give them your blessing?”
