Dessert was a Torta di Cioccolato—Marscapone Mousse, dark chocolate ganache, chopped hazelnuts, with crema chantilly. I should not have been able to get it down, but no way was I leaving even a smear on my plate. All this was washed down with Cappuccino for me, and Espresso for him. And then we went dancing. And I learned that if you danced with someone who truly knew how, it could be the most amazing experience. I was in sync with him as I’d never been with anyone else as he twirled me, spun me, and drew me in close to his impossibly tall, posture perfect form. I thought two people couldn’t mesh any better than when they were having sex, but I was wrong. Dancing made you one if two people did it right. And from the applause, and the look in his eyes that matched mine, we did it right. We owned the town that night. We danced to music by Ray Charles— according to the pianist, all the songs he was playing tonight were from his Genius Loves Company album. I will never forget how amazing it felt to be held in Philips’s arms while hearing the words to Here We Go Again being crooned to us.
Back in the limo we sipped on Limoncello, “to cleanse our plate, sweeten our breath, and to kick start our hearts again.” I was giddy when he pulled me from the car and we made our way to the elevator. On the way past his bike, he grabbed the vest I had worn the day before that was hooked on the handlebar and murmured, “I may find a use for this tonight. Then again, I may just save it for a bike rally, there’s several next month, and I usually like to participate. All for charity you know.”
I knew what he was alluding to, that this might be all I would be permitted to wear, but I knew that even if I agreed, he’d back down. I’d seen how possessive he was getting of me. And I didn’t figure he was the type to share, no matter that he said otherwise, no matter how he’d been in his past life. It was a game he’d played before, and I knew he’d had unlimited players, but he was a different man now, he wanted one woman. And I was happy, genuinely happy that he had decided he wanted me.
Thinking it over, I had kinda figured that if Cassandra had lived after he’d realized that he loved her, he wouldn’t have wanted to share her with anyone ever again.
Being in love was the key. And I knew he loved me.
Chapter Thirty-nine
Solidifying The next morning we slept in and as we were getting dressed, I asked him if he was sure about us. Before I ran home to tell mom and Cat and Tess, I wanted to know if he had any doubts at all.
“You know the story, I had something happen, something I caused, it made me rethink things. In my twenties and thirties I gave myself what they call predate orgasms so I could perform for women and for the camera. And I used numbing creams and gels to deaden the sensation to make me last longer. I thought about anything but the woman in my arms as they made love to my package almost non-stop. It was a guy’s paradise, the ultimate dream job; but it was hell some days, just keeping up. Literally.
“By then I had learned all the tricks of the trade, I learned how to shave everything without nicking myself. I learned how to smack my dong on their clit to get the blood surging so the women would come. I knew how to hide gobs of lubricant someplace close, hell even on the girls’ bodies, so I could ease into their tight assholes when it was time for the two-way. I learned exactly how to tug on myself so I could shoot my cum high into the air. And I learned what women wanted more than anything, what they truly needed. And I learned that it wasn’t what I had between my legs. It was security—and when survival was at stake they knew what they had to do for it—be it despicable, degrading, or demoralizing. And I fed on it. Hell, I perpetuated it for Chrissake.”
For the longest time I thought it’s just a game, you show me yours, I’ll show you mine . . . boys spend all their energy getting the girls to drop their drawers so they can put their penises inside them. In adolescence it’s about fucking as many girls as you possibly can. As a man, in your late twenties and early thirties you revert back to being a rutting teenager, and you can stay like that for about ten years. Then in your forties and fifties you get a little tired of the chase, the hunt gets old and you just open your wallet. I used highend call girls for years—it was quicker, easier. Hell, if you had money, you never even had to leave your desk. If I had to guess at the number of women I’ve fucked it would have to be well over a thousand. Most of them stunningly beautiful, and all willing to do whatever I wanted. I don’t want that anymore. I want one woman, but this time I want everything between us to be real. Nothing faked, ever.
“I want someone to go to football games with, someone I can walk on the beach with, see movies with. And have real sex with, the kind the rest of the world calls lovemaking. I want to satisfy a woman more than I want myself to be satisfied. I’m not saying I won’t be a randy old man who will be popping blue or yellow pills, ‘cause I will. As long as you and I are together, and as long as I am physically able, I’ll keep you happy. I’ve never been selfish in that regard with anyone.”
“Uh, speaking of anyone . . . have you ever umm . . . been with a guy?”
“Let’s just say that I haven’t been breached in that arena.”
“Meaning . . .?”
“Others have been, by me, once or twice. But I didn’t like it.”
“Oh. So you’re not . . .”
“Gay? Lord, no. Not even bi. But when you dabble in something like porn, especially in orgy scenes, you touch on all boundaries. My position allowed me to have men kneeling between my legs all day, everyday. If I’d wanted that it would have been an easy life. But I prefer winsome nymphs with full breasts sucking on my cock instead. Always have.”
“Hmmm.”
“I have noticed you have full breasts, you qualify admirably.”
“Don’t get any ideas, I’m trying to have a serious conversation here.”
“I don’t know what I can say to convince you that I’m ready to settle down, to be with one woman. And that I want that woman to be you.”
“I just wanted to be sure and to be sure you were. This is a big step for me.”
“And me too. I expect to be married to you for a long time, and I don’t have all that much experience at it.”
“Oh, I’m an old hand.”
He chuckled. “Then I’ll expect you to teach me the ropes.”
“Speaking of ropes?” I smiled
“Before breakfast?”
“Maybe you’re right, after breakfast sounds a whole lot better.”
He laughed, “You know I have to be at work for a meeting at two, and you’re supposed to meet the pilot at four so if you want to dally in the meantime . . .”
“Ugh! I’d better get my ass in gear, I haven’t even packed.”
“It would please me greatly if you would leave some of your stuff here, the things you won’t need at the beach. I want you to think of yourself as living with me now.”
“I could do that.” I leaned up to kiss him on the jaw and then ducked back into the bathroom to finish putting on my face.
“Do you want breakfast sent up?” he called.
“We can do that?”
“Sweetheart we can do anything we want.”
“Okay. Then I vote for breakfast up here. Then silk scarves. Then—“
“Whoa! Are you the same woman who fell out on me at eleven last night, leaving me to watch the tonight show?”
“Yeah, I’m well rested now.”
He laughed. “And rarin’to go I see. Put on a pair of those crotchless panties you brought and forego a top all together and we’ll eat in the sitting area. While I feed you strawberries dipped in chocolate you can feed me a titty.”
Twenty minutes later, that’s exactly what we were doing.
I couldn’t believe how easily he could get my clothes off now. He started gradually and built my passion up until I could hardly stand it, and he was so appreciative of my body that he made me want to be naked in front of him all the time. I yearned for him to strip me because I knew that as soon as he did, he would make me feel as if I was the most beautiful woman in the world. Th
e way he touched me, sometimes reverently, sometimes teasing me naughtily, but always as if I thrilled him to no end. It was a kind of worshipful adoration. And who didn’t like being worshipped? And by a man like this no less. I was literally putty in his hands, amenable to him molding me, shaping me, and positioning me for his pleasure. So I had no qualms when he reached for the silk scarves and tied me to the bedposts. It occurred to me that I was quickly becoming his submissive, in so many ways. And while I should have minded, should have protested and backed away from it all, I did not. He was everything I needed and so much more than anything I had ever known. Sure I was frightened. I was actually terrified at times. But that was one of the draws, and that was what made it so damned exciting.
I loved how he walked around the bed looking at me, making me wet just by the look in his eyes. When he touched me, toyed with me and even inserted a dildo into me I moaned my pleasure. When he left me to answer a call and came back, still on the phone to attend to me, the phone hiked to his ear, his hand gently nudging the dildo in and out of me while his thumb stroked my clitoris, I shattered. He had to put his hand over my mouth to keep my cries from disturbing his phone call. After disconnecting, I had to be punished for interrupting his call. Untying my ankles, he raised them to his shoulders and took me until we came together, me sobbing, him groaning.
Philip left for the office for a meeting even though it was Sunday because it was the only time he and an investor from Singapore could get together. I left Charlotte a few hours later, in the late afternoon. I found this when I got home:
I miss you. Consider this advance payment for a fully open labial shot.
Peter
We stopped at a posting inn where we refreshed ourselves and had a late afternoon meal. Carderick was well known in these parts, and everyone was surprised to see him accompanied by a woman, a woman he was so solicitous about. I thought for a moment that he was going to ask for a room as it would have been proper for him to do so with his bride, and it was his right to bed me at his convenience. But as he had hinted at earlier, our consummation would take place in the marquess’ bed where undoubtedly previous generations of brides had lost their maidenheads to the lord of the manor.
I must admit, I was beginning to get anxious about it. I had no idea what to expect really. Only that I’d heard it would hurt, and that I would be sore for days after. I was fortunate though, and I knew it. My husband was a learned man about these things, and while it was not so unusual for a man to know more about his wife’s body that she herself did, I had confidence that he knew how to best take care of the place husbands were wont to frequent. The thought that he might even produce a balm of some sort to insert with his finger, to carefully massage into the soft tissues he would have breeched during our consummation, sent a shiver through me. I remembered his touch from before. And I still wondered about that kiss he had placed low on my mons. What had possessed him? And would he be tempted to repeat that astonishing kiss again?
When the horses had been changed out for fresh ones, he paid the hostler and the innkeeper and escorted me back to the carriage. This time, he sat opposite me at the onset, smiling at me as he slumped in his seat and propped his legs on the other side of mine.
“Do we have much longer to go?” I asked. “About a hour or two. Just enough time.” “Enough time for what?” Oh Lord, was he
going to want me to do that again? I wasn’t sure I was up to it right now. My lips still felt swollen and I knew I had eaten too much to force something that monstrous down my throat without disastrous results.
“For you to entertain me, and for me to learn more about my wife’s lovely body.”
“Entertain you? How? Do you want me to sing to you, to read to you?”
“No,” he said flatly and I watched as his eyes swept over me. It was a lascivious look. I had seen men look at me that way before and it unnerved me each time. It was a look that was intrusive and vulgar somehow.
He dropped his feet back onto the floor and sat up. Then with one hand outstretched, palm up, he beckoned me to take it. As soon as I reached out and put my hand in his, he pulled me off my seat and onto his lap. It was such a sudden change of venues that my gown and all its underpinnings became an unruly mass on his lap.
“First,” he whispered against my cheek, “I will defrock you, so to speak.” And he turned me by my shoulders so that I faced away from him. I felt his nimble fingers undoing the long row of buttons down my back much faster than my maid could have. When he had unbuttoned them all, clear to the base of my spine, he pushed the gown off my shoulders and spun me back around. I was sitting on his lap now with the top of my gown at my waist. The only thing covering my chest was my corset and chemise, and Carderick was quickly undoing my corset.
I felt his hand reach inside, and grab my left breast. Then he pulled it out from both the corset and chemise. I saw his eyes go heavy with desire and at the same time, I felt his thumb graze the nipple and I hissed.
“Did that hurt?” he asked, concerned. “N-n-no.”
“Good, because I don’t want to stop. His thumb and forefinger came together around my nipple and he pinched it. I moaned.
“Hurt?”
“No. It doesn’t hurt . . . exactly.”
“Here, I’ll do it some more and you can tell me what it’s doing to you.”
He pinched and tugged in rapid succession and I felt liquid heat shoot through me, pooling in my woman’s area.
“I feel like I’m getting wet. Down there,” I mumbled.
He gave me a beautiful smile, as if I’d played into his hands, and said, “Do you now?” Let me check,” and before I could stop him, his hand delved under the froth in my lap and between my legs. I felt him shudder as he assessed the situation with his fingers. “Why yes, you are getting wet here. Let me see what this does.” He bent and took my nipple into his mouth, sucking it deep and hard. His anguished groan took me off guard. I knew I was flooding his hand, but why was that painful to him?
“Your labial lips are large and lovely. And I do believe that’s the best alliteration I have ever put to prose. Pretty poetry about my wife’s pussy, it’s a shame I can’t publish it.”
His fingers toyed with me mercilessly, plucking, stroking and delving deep into my core. Then just as marvelously as it had all began, it ceased. He picked me up and sat me on the seat opposite him. Then he dropped to his knees on the carriage floor and ducked beneath my petticoats. My eyes widened as I felt his tongue licking, like a cat would lick its paw, over and over and over again. His smooth lips captured a part of me I hadn’t known was there, at the top of my clit. It felt huge and swollen, and was now being sucked into his mouth between his fervent and frenzied lips. I screamed as my body convulsed and arched up to meet him. And I felt that magical place throb and bloom. And with great care as it was tender now, he ministered to it until it was calm and quiet and tucked back away.
His head came up from between the foamy white depths. I looked down at the dark head between my legs smiling up at me and I shyly smiled back.
“My wife tastes good,” he murmured. “I am most pleased about that.”
“My Lord, I cannot tell you how pleased I am that you are pleased with me. I had no idea . . .” my voice trailed off and he chuckled.
“Do all men do this to their wives?”
“Sadly no. But I can tell you that all marriages would be the better for it if they did.”
“I can see that. May I look forward to that kind of pleasure in the future, My Lord?”
“Most assuredly. Just as I will anticipate you pleasuring me as you did earlier.”
“This marriage thing, I never knew it could be thus.”
“It is for us, because we care for each other. I desire you to be happy above all else.”
I smiled down at him and then wrapped my hands around his jaw. “If you were to kiss me now would it be so awful?”
He groaned and stretched up to take my lips with his. I felt his tong
ue force itself inside my lips and caress my own and I knew my own taste for the first time.
His lips feasted on me while his hands worked busily feeling my breasts, which he palmed and squeezed amid murmurings that sound like “Mine, all mine.”
I had to close my eyes against the pleasure and wonder at the new sensations that would be found in the marriage bed tonight. Would our coupling bring pleasure or pain? Maybe both?
The steady slowing of the horses alerted us to the fact that we were home and my new husband, heretofore only helping me to undress, was now helping me to right my clothing so that his household could be presented to me. I couldn’t help but admire his handsome face and wonder at what it must have looked like lapping at me down there. Just the thought provoked a trembling inside me. One he noticed and assumed was my nervousness at meeting his staff.
“You have nothing to fear. I assure you that, everyone, especially me, is only concerned with your pleasure my marchioness.”
Chapter Forty
Breakdown When Philip called that night to make sure I arrived home all right he walked me through hooking up Skype so that he and I could see each other while we talked. He’d sent me home with what I’d need and I was surprised at how fast he talked me through the set up.
I had to impress on him how strongly I felt about not sending naked images of me over the Internet. He, having been in films that were still being distributed today, said he’d have no qualms about it himself, but agreed, saying he would prefer I kept myself out of the Internet porn business.
We discussed some tentative plans for getting married, and Philip said he was seeing his attorneys in the morning to go over some related items. He was tired and I was tired, so we agreed to talk again in the morning when we were more rested. He blamed me for him being tired and I blamed him for wearing me out, but we agreed we already missed each other badly.
The Widows of Sea Trail-Vivienne of Sugar Sands Page 30
