Portrait of a Lady: The Gentleman Courtesans Book 1

by Victoria Vale

  A ridiculous notion given that their relationship was supposed to be purely of a carnal and secretive nature. Still, he liked the idea of pushing that aside for an afternoon and indulging in the fantasy of courtship. It was just the sort of thing he knew he ought not do, but he couldn’t help himself. Evelyn was pleasant to talk to, smart as a whip, and witty to boot. He found the fact that she secretly wrote Gothic novels endearing, a new facet to her personality he felt privileged to know anything about. During their short time together, he’d come to see that very few people knew her as a whole person. How could they, when shyness plagued her to the point that she’d never allowed many people to truly come to know her?

  “I owe you an apology,” he blurted, desperate to make conversation and steer his thoughts away from their dangerous trajectory.

  She glanced up from her glass, the brim of her hat tipping up to reveal a furrowed brow. “For what?”

  Leaving his spoon in the depths of his empty glass, he sighed. “For last night. I hadn’t expected to encounter Marcus at the theater and was caught off guard. But, that was no fault of yours and I should not have allowed it to ruin our evening.”

  She shook her head, offering him a consoling smile. “It wasn’t ruined. I really had a wonderful time at the theater and I enjoyed meeting your friends.”

  Her assurances made him feel only slightly better, as he had seen the clear disappointment in her eyes when he’d cried off. “I am glad to hear that, but I’m still sorry. When you...when you asked me to accompany you inside, I had no right to refuse. I ought to have put my personal problems aside to give you what you wanted. I would hate for you to have been disappointed with me.”

  “Oh,” she whispered, lowering her head, her hat shielding her face once more. “I see. Well...I wasn’t wholly disappointed, I had only hoped that...well, that we would finally…”

  The late spring air was suddenly stifling, clogging the air around them with an oppressive sort of heat. It seemed to sink deeper than his skin, infusing his blood, which began its predictable course straight to his cock. All at once he was both aroused and annoyed with himself. Last night, the thing he’d wanted so badly had been right within his reach. Instead of going home angry and frustrated, he might have taken Evelyn to bed, finding comfort in burying himself deep inside her and giving her the pleasure she desired.

  “Bollocks,” he muttered with a shake of his head. “I am an idiot.”

  She giggled at that, leaning close to nudge him with her shoulder. “Not an idiot. You simply weren’t in the mood, Hugh. It is completely understandable.”

  “Except it isn’t. Pleasing you is my—”

  He bit his tongue before he could say aloud that it was his ‘job.’ Even though that statement would prove true, it still felt far too matter-of-fact when he was talking to Evelyn. She wasn’t just a job or a client; she was a woman he wanted to make happy.

  “You are a person, Hugh, not a...a whore.” She choked out the last word, her cheeks flushing pink as she avoided his gaze to go back to her ice. “At least, I do not think of you that way. If you do not want to do something, I would never press the issue.”

  Darting a glance around to ensure they were still unheard; he met her gaze and smirked. “I am certainly not overcome with any such affliction just now. In fact, I find I am most...eager...to pick up where we left off. That is, if you haven’t changed your mind.”

  “No,” she said, so quickly he wondered if she’d been prepared to make the exact same proposition. “No, I haven’t changed my mind.”

  “Good. Finish your ice then, and we’ll return to your home and—”

  “Not there,” she interjected. “If you do not mind, I would rather we went to your home. It’s just that it is so early in the day, and my staff are still about and...oh, it would be so embarrassing for them to know what I was up to. It is ridiculous, I know, but at least when you come at night, I can send them off to bed and pretend as if they aren’t there.”

  He smiled, holding in a laugh he felt certain would only embarrass her further. “I do not think it’s ridiculous. Of course we can go to my home instead. I have very few servants, and most stay out of my way unless I send for them. I think they are relieved to have limited contact with the brooding, moody artist.”

  She smirked, then dug back into her ice, which had begun to melt into a pool at the bottom of her glass. Nevertheless, she finished every drop, with Hugh doing his best to remain patient. It wasn’t a problem he’d had with his past keepers, but Evelyn was different. His desire for her had grown urgent, unbearable even. He only needed to look at her for his cock to stir, let his mind wander for it to raise itself to half mast, touch her for it to pulse and throb with the urgent need to find its way inside her. It would be a miracle if he could get through this with his dignity intact. As it stood now, he felt as if he might embarrass himself like a boy who’d never bedded a woman, let alone one who did so as a profession of sorts.

  Tearing his gaze away from her, he forced himself to think of mundane thoughts, anything that wouldn’t arouse him with thoughts of what he’d do to Evelyn once he got her closeted away in his bedchamber. Horses. Fencing. His mother. The pigeon hopping about in the grass a few feet away from the phaeton. The portly lord trying to step up into his carriage who was having a hard time of it due to the constriction of the padding and corset he so obviously wore beneath his clothes.

  When she had finished her ice and Hugh had waved down a waiter to come take their glasses and spoons, he then took up the ribbons and guided his pair out into the clogged street. This time of day it was slow going, the square overrun with people stopping off at Gunter’s after their rides in Hyde Park. He gritted his teeth and bore it all with patience that stood as if on the edge of a knife. Evelyn fidgeted and shifted on the seat, seeming as anxious as him to reach their destination.

  They traded not a word as he drove, but he found the silence companionable instead of strained. Despite the tension humming through the air between them, they were joined in their mutual impatience. No words were needed when they both knew what was to come.

  After what felt like an eternity, they finally arrived at his townhouse on Clarges Street—which was blessedly quiet and all but empty this time of day—and he leaped down from the phaeton and rounded to the other side to hand Evelyn down. They were greeted by a footman at the door, whom Hugh charged with returning the vehicle and horses to the mews. With the servant occupied, the small entrance hall and corridor leading deeper into the ground floor remained deserted. His staff did not expect him home until late and so they were not accosted as he took her hand and led her to the staircase.

  He glanced at Evelyn to find her craning her neck to take in his home, the modest but comfortable place his first keeper had let for him. He’d been fortunate that each woman after her had been willing to take over the rent, as he’d come to love the place. It was smaller and less opulent than the one Evelyn’s inheritance had afforded her, but it was his.

  “Not what you expected?” he teased when she seemed confused by the neat, orderly surroundings of the corridors and staircase.

  Framed pieces of art—not his own work—lined the walls while the occasional table held vases and collections of the curios his sisters had given him in the years before his banishment from the family.

  “Well, it is how my mind works, you see,” she said as he opened the door to his bedroom and ushered her inside. “You being a brooding artist and all, I had imagined the place being in artful shambles—canvases strewn about, paint splattering the walls, sketchbooks and charcoal scattered here and there.”

  Hugh roared a laugh as he pushed the door closed behind him and turned the key in the lock. “My housekeeper would box my ears if I had the place looking like that. However, I do think the interior of my studio would better fit your imagination. Remind me to show it to you...after.”

  Like hell he would show her after. She’d be fortunate if she could walk by the time he was do
ne with her. Hugh did not intend to allow Evelyn to leave his bed until she’d been properly initiated, and that required at least two or three tumbles. By then, she’d want to eat something and go straight to sleep.

  That thought brought a smile to his face as he advanced upon her, waiting until she’d taken off her hat and laid it on a chair near the hearth before he pounced. He was across the room with a few swift strides, reaching out to pull her flush against him. Her breath hitched when their bodies collided, one of his arms wrapping around her waist, while his opposite hand tangled in her hair. There would be no more careful, mincing movements, no more taking it slow in fear she would shrink from him. He and Evelyn were as intimately acquainted as they could be just short of what would happen once he got her into bed.

  He sent pins flying from her hair as he sank his fingers into the locks and pulled her to him for a kiss. No longer a shrinking violet, she met him without restraint, opening her mouth to him and darting her tongue against his lower lip. She buried her fingers in the fabric of his cravat, tearing the knot loose as they kissed, mouths parting and meeting, tongues seeking. The hand around her waist slid down and he cupped her arse, pulling her tighter against him, until he registered the hot press of the mound between her legs against his cock. He backed her against one of the bedposts, cupping her face in both hands and tilting her head to deepen the kiss. She issued a desperate whimper, sagging against the post as he took her mouth with a ferocity he had previously held at bay. Tossing his cravat aside, she helped him peel his coat off, then began working the buttons of his waistcoat loose.

  Shrugging off the garment, he then reached around her to work at the fastenings of her gown. She leaned in to press her mouth against his throat, the innocent touch of her lips stoking something primitive deep within him. It didn’t matter how many virgins he’d bedded before Evelyn, there was something about this instance, about her, that made it all feel so different. He didn’t want to methodically seduce this woman with a calculated plan of attack as he had the ones before her. He wanted to be in the moment with her, to feel everything and truly experience it in a way he never had.

  Her gown fell and he attacked her stays, kissing and nibbling the column of her throat as he jerked the laces free. She was panting now, her breasts heaving with every breath, her eyes wide and wild as she gazed up at him while the stays fell to join her gown on the floor. Her chemise slipped off one shoulder as he lifted her up, wrapping her legs around his waist. She clung to him, her head falling back so he could kiss his way down her throat. Then, he used his teeth to tug the chemise down until it bared one breast. He latched onto it with ravenous intent, taking as much of her as could fit in his mouth and lashing the nipple with his tongue. She cried out, then clamped her mouth shut as if to stifle the sound, her breath rushing in and out of her nose.

  He moved them away from the post, perching her on the edge of the mattress and standing between her parted knees. Skimming his hands up her legs, he lifted her chemise, revealing the tops of her stockings tied off with garters flaunting emerald green bows.

  “Stop worrying,” he murmured, kissing her brow. “It doesn’t matter if someone hears. It’s just us, Evie, just me and you.”

  She nodded, reaching out to draw him closer. Their lips met again while she began pulling his shirttails free of his breeches. He flicked the buttons open, then helped her pull it off over his head. Her chemise came next, Evelyn lifting her hips up so he could snatch it off. He paused to take her in, the sight of her nude body as wondrous as it had been the first time he’d seen her undressed. He palmed one of her breasts, smiling at the little moan she let out when he gave her nipple a light pinch.

  He nudged her back onto the bed, and she obeyed his silent directive. While he unbuttoned his breeches, she crawled toward the headboard, settling herself against the pillows and watching him with unguarded lust. Her gaze fell to his cock as he sprang free of his fall, fully engorged. He made quick work of shedding the rest of his clothes, then climbing up onto the bed with her.

  Warmth flooded him in a heady rush as she opened up without reservation, wrapping her arms around him as he lay on top of her. He shuddered at the feel of her against him, her nipples tickling his chest, her thighs cradling him, the wet heat of her cunt teasing his prick with the promise of things to come.

  “How do you want me?” he teased with a grin, mimicking the words she’d said to him during her disastrous attempt at seduction.

  She smiled back at him, reaching up to brush a stray lock of hair out of his eyes. “Inside me.”

  He lowered his head to kiss her with a groan, her words adding fuel to his rampant need. Flexing his hips, he nudged against her, hissing at the feel of her silky inner flesh rubbing against him. She was already wet, but not near enough for his liking.

  “Not yet,” he murmured, coming up to kneel between her legs. “I want to take my time with you.”

  Before she could respond, he delved his thumb between her lower lips, seeking out the hidden bundle of nerves. She gasped when he pressed down on it, letting her legs fall open wider, her back arching as she undulated against him. He stroked her with slow circles, using his first finger to test her entrance.

  “God, you’re exquisite,” he groaned, delving his finger in and gently stretching her, readying her to take his cock. “Have you any idea how badly I’ve wanted you? From that first night in the Gardens, I’ve wanted you.”

  “Yes,” she moaned, edging closer and urging him deeper. “Please, Hugh...take me. I want you too...now.”

  He clenched his jaw until it ached, reminding himself of the benefits of patience. Taking hold of his cock with his free hand, he slipped his finger free of her then poised his head at her entrance, pressing against her ever so slightly.

  She bit her lip, muffling a guttural groan and moving against him in a silent invitation. He quickened the strokes of his thumb over her clitoris but held back from entering her, even though it physically pained him with the hot, wet temptation of her cunt beckoning to him.

  “Tell me when you’re close,” he urged.

  She was almost there, he could feel it in the tension winding through her, the wetness coating his fingers. A tremor tore through her, then she stiffened, her entire body winding taut.

  “Now, Hugh...I’m...oh, God!”

  Never ceasing the stroking circles of his thumb, he began pushing into her with as much care as he could manage. She issued a strangled cry, her insides pulsating around him as he gained an inch, then another and another. The feel of her climaxing, surrounding him with liquid heat and drenching him in her juices, nearly undid him. But he managed to keep from embarrassing himself as he withdrew and plunged, falling deeper into her, opening her up to him. Tears sprang to her eyes and she sobbed, the sound falling somewhere between one of pleasure and one of pain.

  He lay flush against her, sinking in as far as he could go and gathering her in his arms. He dragged his lips over her temple, her cheek, her jaw, the salt of her tears mingling with the sweetness of her skin. She clung to him, turning her head to seek his mouth for a kiss. He drank from her lips, circling his hips and digging deep into her, determined to touch and feel every part of her. He tipped her chin until her deep, dark eyes met his, their gazes locking. Amidst the bright gleam of lust and desire, he saw her vulnerability, her openness to him as the last of her reticence and fear fell away.

  His cock pulsed inside her, his entire body quivering with the need to move, to succumb to his own desires. But she was so tight, her body tensed beneath his as she fought against the newness of his invasion. He lightened his touch on her clitoris, caressing her in featherlight motions that made her slowly unwind for him. She sighed, her eyes rolling back in her head and her thighs relaxing from their brutal clench around his hips.

  As she grew more pliant, he tested her, moving inside her with short, shallow strokes. She gasped, arching her back and clinging to his shoulders, emboldening him to give her more. Her swift, pantin
g breaths gave way to shocked moans of delight as he rolled his hips, losing himself in the silken glide of her channel around him.

  He slid his hands beneath her buttocks and guided her against him until they moved as one, her hips undulating against his in an instinctive rhythm. Burying his face in the crook of her neck, he groaned, the deep sound like an answering call to her breathless cries.

  Shuddering with the force of the climax he held at bay, he fought for more time, craving the feel of her climax before he let himself go. Adjusting his angle, he found the spot that sent her moans echoing from the walls, her insides pulsating around him in a prelude to her rapture.

  His own finish hovered just within reach, so close it stole the breath from his lungs and coherent thought from his mind. But he held back until she splintered again, writhing and crying his name, her fingernails digging into his shoulders. Only then did he give himself over to climax, groaning and stroking deep inside her for as long as he could before he was forced to pull away, taking hold of his cock and stroking as the hot streams of his seed spilled onto the coverlet. Head thrown back, blood rushing in his ears and his entire body shaking from the force of his spend, Hugh could only remain where he crouched for a long moment. He’d been determined that she wouldn’t be able to walk when he’d finished, but damn if he could remember how his own legs worked just now.

  After a moment, the reminder that he had to see to Evelyn’s comfort spurred him into action. Glancing down, he found her sprawled out in the most delectable fashion—thighs fallen open, breasts heaving as she struggled to catch her breath, eyes heavy-lidded and glassy, hair tousled beyond repair. He’d never seen a more carnally delightful sight in his life, and he wished he could sketch her this way, capturing the moment for his eyes only. The desire to execute an erotic sketch had never come over him as strongly as it did now, but even so, it couldn’t be done. Not this time at least.