“You appeared to welcome his flirtatious behavior, which embarrassed me in front of my guests. Others perceived it as well.”
“I did welcome it,” I curtly replied. “You barely give me the time of day in our marriage, let alone look at me with any desire or want.” I was becoming irate, and I balled my fists together at my sides. Oh, how I wanted to beat him on his chest repeatedly until I expelled all the pain over his affair.
“Obviously, I should give you attention this evening,” he said, moving closer to me. His hand reached behind me, turned the doorknob to my room, and pushed it open.
“Oh, now you want me because another man expressed his interest?” I said, seething between my teeth.
“It’s evident I have been neglectful in this area,” he replied with his eyes narrowing into threatening slits.
He pulled me by my hand into the room and closed the door behind us. The disdainful countenance frightened me, and I wondered if he intended to rape me to make a point. I didn’t want him to treat me with disrespect and force himself upon me, so I tempered my irritation.
“You do neglect me,” I whispered, my voice trembling and submissive. My lips pushed out into a pout, as I stepped toward him and put my arms around his neck. The conflicted glance in his eyes gave me hope that inwardly he harbored a small amount of fondness toward me. I leaned forward and kissed him, but the hollowness behind his response persisted.
“Make love to me,” I cried. “Please, John, you never give me enough of you.”
“Don’t ever act that way again,” he warned in a stern voice. He placed both of his hands squeezing my shoulders. “You are my wife.”
It felt as if he wanted to violently shake me. “Then treat me like your wife,” I said.
John spun me around and nearly ripped my dress from my body. The agitation burning in his eyes revealed that he wanted to teach me a lesson. After he had stripped me naked, he backed me up to the bed and roughly pushed me down. A moment later, he undid his trousers, exposing his bulging shaft. His dark eyes glowered at me with authority.
He lowered himself and swiftly slipped inside of me, making his claim of ownership. No kisses or whispered words of affection accompanied his carnal need. He speedily took what belonged to him. Now jealousy burned into my soul as he heartlessly thrust himself inside of me again and again until satisfaction arrived. He deposited his seed and left me longing and aching for more. It never changed, and I loathed him for it. Surely, Melanie received the totality of his passion and love.
When he finished his task of putting me in my place, he surveyed my disheveled state. The smug look of a conqueror gazed down upon me. He had callously used me to make a point. Nevertheless, I wanted him to remain.
“Stay with me tonight,” I pleaded, “and sleep with me.” He regarded me with resistance. “I apologize for my behavior,” I said, acting remorseful. “It won’t happen again.”
To my relief, he lay along side of me and gathered me in his arms. Tonight he would share my bed, and I determined to take whatever morsel he willingly gave.
* * * *
We slept soundly together in each other arms. When morning arrived, the usual knock came at the door from Melanie. I forgot she existed whenever John spent time with me.
“Wait a minute,” I called out.
John stirred, and I nudged him gently. “My lady’s maid is here with my morning tea. You should withdraw to your room.”
He flipped back the blanket and rose to his feet. Panicked, he grabbed his clothes strewn over a nearby chair and his shoes on the floor.
“Thank you,” I said, looking at him with an appreciative glance. “May I have a quick kiss before you depart?”
He glanced at the door nervously and back at me. “Of course.” John leaned over, gave me a peck on my lips, and afterward disappeared into his bedchamber.
“You may come in now,” I called.
Melanie opened the door but appeared hesitant to enter. She must have known John had spent the night in my bed. She set the tray down on my night table and bent over picking up a stocking that he had dropped.
“You had a visitor last night?”
The inappropriate tone of her voice startled me. I refused to answer her inquiry. “You may place it on the chair,” I instructed. “I will give it to my husband later.”
She obeyed, but her demeanor exuded a loathsome attitude. Did she harbor resentment because I stole a moment from her lover? My eyes narrowed at her for having the nerve to complain.
“Did you have a pleasant dinner party last evening?” she inquired in a more amenable tone.
“Yes, very nice,” I responded. I took a few sips of tea but had no appetite.
I allowed Melanie to help me dress for the day. She remained silent for the remainder of her few minutes with me before departing for other duties. Did she finally run out of patience, perchance, serving me daily? After finishing my hair, I dismissed her from my room.
“That is all,” I said. “I can take care of the rest.”
“Yes, my lady,” she said, giving me a halfhearted curtsy. She picked up the breakfast tray, with my empty teacup, uneaten bread, and departed.
Today I would give her more competition for my husband’s affection.
Passion Realized
I descended the stairs and found John at the dining room table. It was unusual for him to join me for breakfast.
“No meetings this morning with Mr. Williams?” I asked, hoping he was taking a break from Melanie.
“Not today,” he replied, glancing at me with a curious look.
“What are you staring at?” I flashed a teasing smile in his direction.
“You,” he said. “I don’t always take the time to tell you how beautiful I think you are.”
I nearly gasped over the compliment but decided it probably came forth due to lingering jealousy over Percy’s attention toward me.
“Thank you,” I replied. After gathering a small portion of breakfast, I sat across from him at the dining room table. The responsiveness continued.
“Would you like to go for a morning ride on the estate grounds?”
I literally choked on my tea after inhaling a surprised breath. After coughing until my airway cleared, I opened my mouth to respond. He smirked.
“Yes, that sounds delightful,” I answered.
“Good. I will instruct the groom to saddle the horses and will meet you at the stables in a half hour. Is that enough time?”
“Oh, more than sufficient.” My excitement radiated from my voice and face. Giving my husband a bit of rivalry seemed to have stirred his interest in me much more. I played my card well.
He departed the table, and I quickly ate my breakfast. After changing into my riding habit, I met John at the stables. My tailored skirt and jacket accented my figure and tiny waist. Rather than the fabric of my outfit being a dull gray, I wore a dark purple. A matching lady’s top hat, with a black veil that covered my eyes, added to the alluring picture. When he saw me approach, he smiled approvingly.
“I’m a good rider, you know,” I warned, mounting my horse. He had never witnessed my horsemanship skills.
“Are you now,” he replied, sounding as if he didn’t believe a word of my boasting.
“Even at full speed.” My arrogant voice stated my claim, and I caught him off guard by taking the lead with one wallop of my crop. A second later, I was galloping across the green acreage, leaving my husband to dodge the clods of dirt flying up from the hooves of my stallion. I glanced over my shoulder and saw him whip his horse into a frenzy until he caught up to my side.
“To the tower,” he yelled, suggesting a destination.
“To the tower, and the first one there is the winner.”
We both laughed aloud, speeding across the landscape. Giddy and out of breath, he won by a short distance. I hated being defeated but enjoyed the look of victory on his face.
“You are quite the rider,” John admitted. He dismounted and held ou
t his hand to me.
“There are many things you have yet to discover about your wife, John Broadhurst.” I jumped down in front of him. We stood face to face, and for the first time in our marriage I saw a spark of pleasure in his eyes.
“I have much to offer you if you will only open your heart and take it,” I whispered. It was a foolish thing to say, but it must have touched his emotions. He pulled me flush to his body and kissed me, nearly knocking off my hat. I relished the sincere, intimate moment, holding onto it like a treasure. If his affection faded again, I would tuck it in the corner of my memory and resurrect the taste of his lips, his strong arms around me, and the look in his eyes.
“What now?” I asked innocently.
“Do you want to go inside?”
The enticing look in his sparkling eyes weakened my knees, and my stomach tightened into a knot. The prospect of what could happen between us as husband and wife conflicted with the secrets that lay behind the door. Why did he want me to partake in their clandestine meeting place? The more I thought about it, I knew he chose to commit disloyalty against Melanie so I gladly gave him the opportunity to carry out his betrayal.
“Yes, of course.” I held his hand, we entered, and he shut the door. The only light that filtered in came through the cracks of the closed shutters. Even in the dim light, I could see the need in his eyes. He wanted me.
“I will let you take me, John Broadhurst,” I said in a sultry voice. “On one condition.”
“And what would that be?” he asked. The corner of his mouth raised in a mocking grin.
At that moment, I knew this would be my chance to take from him what I always wanted.
“You might find this surprising, your lordship,” I said, teasing him by running the tip of my finger across his bottom lip. “But your wife has needs too.”
“Needs? Elaborate for me.”
He apparently knew exactly what I meant by his teasing tone. “I want to know what it means to experience passion,” I said, proclaiming my unfulfilled desire. “I’m tired of being denied pleasure. Surely, there must be more for a woman, and I want you to show me exactly what it is.”
Amusement curled his lips into a wicked grin. “Are you sure that is what you want from me?”
“Yes, and I swear I will lock you in this tower until you give me what I want.” I giggled over my threat.
“Very well,” he said, surrendering to my demands. “Far be it from me to deny you pleasure, my lady.”
What transpired next completely caught me off guard. My docile husband transformed into a devouring animal. He grabbed me by the waist and pulled me to his lips, forcing his tongue inside my mouth. Shocked by his action, I never imagined a man would do such a thing. Once again, I cursed my ignorance and moaned at the onslaught. His hand came to my breast and squeezed it tightly. I felt the hardness of his erection press against my pelvis.
As I continued to whimper at his touch, he unbuttoned my jacket and pulled my chemisette from my skirt. A moment later, he roughly stripped me to my corset and petticoat.
Undeterred by his actions, I reached out and placed my hand on the bulging manhood hidden in his trousers. Surprised I had done so, he breathed heavily into my ear.
“That’s a dangerous thing to do to a man, madam,” he slurred.
Dangerous or not, I didn’t care. After fumbling with his buttons, I released him into my hand and exposed what I needed. He lifted me up and carried me up a flight of stairs and kicked open the door to the bedroom. Now I had a chance to defile the same spot Melanie used to take my husband. His face showed no shame but only desire.
He laid me on the bed, parted my legs, and slipped his fingers into my moistness. A second later, his tongue found its way into my mouth, kissing me deeply while he fondled me with expert precision. The glorious touch consumed my body, driving me to a heightened sense of insatiable craving. Such pleasure was more than I ever imagined. I moaned between his kisses, and he suddenly pulled away, looking at me with a sly grin pulling up the corner of his mouth.
“Do you want more?”
“Yes,” I whined, hoping he would slide himself into me. However, he had other plans, and slowly slipped down between my legs and began a journey with his tongue in places I thought his mouth should never touch. Horrified he had done so, I lost all reason to protest as he sucked and massaged me with his lips and tongue. The nerves in my body tingled like sparks, and I felt a growing fullness demanding release. He continued unrelentingly with his skills I knew never existed. With one more expert movement on his part, I found myself transported into such bliss I cried my delight, filling the tower with my screams. At last, I had tasted sweet and satisfying pleasure.
As I writhed until it subsided, John repositioned himself upon me. A smug look of victory crossed his face as he slipped inside. His previous slow and tedious movements turned into thrusts sending me into another powerful rise of ecstasy. He placed the palm of his hands beneath me and pulled me upward, releasing a final plunge into my body. Only this time, no grunt came from his mouth. A surge of utter satisfaction roared from his throat. When it ended, I lay exhausted.
We lingered in each other’s arms for some time, silently side by side. My head found a familiar place on his shoulder. The touch of his warm skin next to my body felt glorious. For the first time since we married, I actually felt like his wife.
“Why haven’t you done those things to me before?” I whispered. My heart knew why, but I wanted to hear what he would say about the matter. A few moments passed, and his hand gently stroked my arm back and forth as if he were thoughtfully thinking of a response.
“I’ve been selfish, I suppose,” he softly spoke in a repentant tone.
His confession touched my heart. “I hope you never stop,” I replied, my voice quavering. I wanted to tell him that I loved him, but I feared I would lose whatever ground I had gained. He chuckled.
“Pleasure is like opium,” he announced, “I am fearful I will turn you into an addict.”
“Then please do.” I rolled over and straddled myself across his body. “Are there other positions you can teach me too?”
“You surprise me, Lady Broadhurst,” he quipped. “Most wives are frigid creatures scared to explore the depths of pleasure. Didn’t your mother condemn sexual inclination to you as a young lady?”
“I am not like others,” I heatedly responded. “Besides, who told you wives were frigid and did not wish to enjoy the passions of the marriage bed?”
“My father,” he said.
“Oh, dear God,” I broke out laughing uncontrollably.
“What’s so funny?” He looked at me cockeyed.
“It appears our parents have duped us both. My mother gave me no instruction except to lie back, open my legs, and think of the English countryside.”
He roared with hilarity and reached out with his hands and grabbed my breasts. He playfully squeezed my nipples.
“Apparently we have been misled,” he replied. “I do admire your breasts, by the way.”
John pulled me forward and captured my mouth. The position of my body made a perfect entrance, which he swiftly took advantage of, causing me to gasp.
“Now it’s your turn to do what you wish to me,” he whispered hotly into my ear. He thrust upward, and I responded with movement.
“Don’t stop,” I begged, enjoying another moment of intimacy.
“I won’t until you fill the tower with your screams again. You shrieked quite loudly, by the way.”
His face turned serious, as he began to return me to a place of ecstasy. I knew then he would be my opiate for the rest of my life. If I could keep him captive in my bed alone, I hoped he would never stray. As long as I learned the art of giving him pleasure, I had a chance.
* * * *
Two hours later, John and I returned to the estate, both of us glimmering like satisfied fools. Unfortunately, I felt nauseated so I headed to my bedchamber to rest before dinner. When I entered, I found Melanie lo
oking through my jewelry box. I halted in the doorway with my mouth gaping open in disbelief. She did not hear me, so I stood there as she played with my jewels. My patience expired, and I made my presence known.
“What are you doing?” I said, storming into my room. In her hand, lay my ruby necklace John had given me for our wedding.
“Oh, my lady, I am so sorry,” she said, putting it back and slamming the lid shut. “They are so beautiful I got carried away admiring your jewels.”
Her face blushed profusely, and my resentment toward her heatedly rose. I wanted to hurt her, so I did.
“I don’t ever want to catch you handling my things again without my permission, do you understand?’ She took a step back from me.
“Yes, my lady,” she replied, lowering her eyes. She turned to run toward the door, but I halted her departure. “Have the chambermaids bring up hot water for a bath,” I said. “I am dusty after a morning ride with my husband to the tower.”
Melanie’s countenance paled, and I could see the wound I inflicted upon her heart. Instead of acting mercifully, I turned the blade further, which I expertly plunged to add to my spitefulness. “I am exhausted from our intimate dalliance behind closed doors,” I said, snickering. When I saw the wretched expression on her face, I feigned my apology. “Oh, forgive me.” My fingers lifted the veil from my eyes, and I removed my hat. “My comment is most inappropriate. I beg your pardon.”
Speechless and unable to respond, Melanie curtsied and left the room. I closed my eyes ashamed over what I had done. Frankly, I never treated anyone so cruelly in my entire life as I did at that moment. Perhaps I had succeeded in pounding a wedge between her and John, which might cause permanent damage.
While waiting for the bath water, I sat on the edge of my bed feeling queasy. Intermittent pain cramped my stomach. My mother told me that I might feel ill during early pregnancy. Even though I wanted to vomit, a part of me felt excited that I could be carrying John’s child. I only hoped that the dreadful unsettled stomach would not last for months on end.
Blythe Court (Novella) Page 8
