by Olivia Essex
“There is no need, Tempie.” His voice was husky when he pulled her against him, her bare breasts pressing into the wool of his evening jacket. Ashby pushed strands of black hair out of her eyes so she could meet his gaze. “That is supposed to happen. That slippery liquid is what makes it possible for your woman parts to welcome a man’s organ.”
Her eyes widened. “I do not understand. Are you talking about copulation?”
He seemed surprised. “What do you know of copulation?”
“My aunt said it was something a wife must endure. The man forces in his…organ and leaves his seed to make babies.”
Ashby shook his head. “That is a terrible description of making love, Tempie. It is technically correct, but your aunt left out a great many details—including the pleasure a woman feels during the joining.”
She couldn’t hide her skepticism. “I do not think so.”
He grinned. “Have I yet deceived you?”
She shook her head.
“Have you enjoyed the things I have taught you?”
“Yes. I particularly enjoyed the kissing.”
Ashby stroked her cheek. “Where—lips or breasts?”
“Both, but more so on my breasts.” She giggled at the shocking thrill of saying such a word aloud, in the presence of a man.
He shifted. “There are other places I could kiss you.”
Eyes wide, she asked, “Where?”
“Anywhere we both find pleasurable. Your stomach, or thighs, or maybe your feet.” He smiled when she grimaced. “Or your cunny.”
“My what?”
“Your woman parts.”
Tempie shook her head, refusing to believe him. “That is impossible.”
He grinned. “Nay, ‘tis possible and highly satisfying, if done correctly.” With a twinkle in his eye, he boasted, “I am most proficient with kissing lady parts.”
Intrigued, she studied him. Ashby was proving to be quite the tutor and showing a side to himself she had never expected. She had assumed he was stiff and proper, from their limited interactions since she came to live with him. Clearly, he was anything but. “Would it be improper?”
“Terribly so,” he said without obvious repentance. “It is shocking and scandalous.”
She tilted her head, pretending to think. “Perhaps you should show me, so I know how to avoid being caught in a scandalous position.”
He smiled wickedly, but his eyes were warm, and his expression was tender. “I think we should adjourn to your bedchamber for that lesson, Tempie. It would be a true scandal if one of the staff caught us with my head between your legs.”
His words made her woman parts tingle again. She allowed him to pull up her dress before sliding off the desk. She took his hand as he led her from the study. They made it to the upstairs suites without seeing any of the servants, and he slipped inside her room behind her, locking the door to prevent them being disturbed, to her relief.
She stood awkwardly before him. “What shall I do?”
“You will be most comfortable without your clothes.” He didn’t allow her to voice her instinctive protest. “Turn around so I may assist you with the buttons.”
Caught in the grip of some type of madness, she did as he instructed, standing in a daze as he methodically unfastened the myriad tiny buttons, until the dress fell to the floor. He helped her remove the boned chemise, leaving her in only her garter and stockings.
Awareness returned, and she ran for her bed, diving under the blanket to cover herself.
He followed more sedately, sitting beside her. “You do not have to fear me.”
“I know,” she said in a small voice. “But I am exposed.”
Ashby flashed a grin. “You still wear your stockings.”
She allowed herself to be swayed by his charming response and looked up to meet his gaze.
“Are you truly not disturbed by my nudity, sir?”
“Aye, but in a different way than you imagine.” He looked down with a rueful expression.
“My staff aches for you, and seeing the glory of your nude body makes it almost painful.”
Instinctively, she reached out for his organ. “I did not mean to cause you pain. How can I relieve it?”
He groaned, quickly intercepting her hand before it reached his man parts. “Perhaps I will show you later. First, I owe you a kissing lesson.”
She trembled with anxiety and excitement when he pulled off the blanket and directed her to lie down. Tempie tried to keep her legs locked when she was lying down, but he pried them apart with gentle force, until she was on display before him, legs spread to reveal all her secrets.
Ashby settled between her splayed thighs, hands on each one to keep them open. Tempie tensed as his mouth neared her private area.
“Your cunt is as beautiful as the rest of you,” he said, his breath wafting over her heated flesh and making her squirm.
“I thought it was a cunny,” she said inanely.
“The pussy goes by many names, my dear. I shall endeavor to teach them all to you sometime.” Those were his last words for a while as his mouth engulfed her cunt.
Tempie almost screamed at the first touch of his tongue against her insides. This didn’t seem exactly like kissing, but she wasn’t going to complain. He stroked her pussy with the broad side of his tongue, paying special attention to the little nub she sometimes stroked at night before falling asleep. It had never felt like this when she touched herself. Her legs quivered, and she couldn’t stay still. Only his hands on her thighs kept her on the bed at all.
Warmth built in her stomach and spread downward. It felt like her pussy was draining all the heat in her body and focusing it on the burning spot between her thighs. When Ashby put his lips around her clit to suck gently, she cried out. Sensations overwhelmed her, and she thought she might have lost consciousness as they ravaged her body.
At some point, she regained the ability to speak and lifted her head to find him watching her with a pleased expression. “What was that?”
“It is an orgasm. That is the reason men and women make love. Well, the physical reason, besides procreation. There are other reasons for lovemaking, including showing how much you love someone.”
Before she could ask more questions, he returned to the spot between her legs, instantly arousing her again as he trailed his tongue down her opening. Tempie froze when his mouth went lower, bridging the distance between her pussy and her arse. When his tongue probed that dark hole, she tried to sit up. His grip on her legs kept her anchored. “You cannot, Lord Linchester.”
He didn’t lift his head, but his tongue left her inner recesses. “We are beyond formal titles, Tempie.” As though she hadn’t protested or interrupted, he returned to the shy rosette.
She found herself powerless to resist the languid warmth seeping into her. Her muscles relaxed, and his tongue went deeper. It was beyond shocking, and she should continue to protest, but no longer had the inclination. His tongue was eliciting a different type of sensation from her back passage, one which made her cunny throb with the need for…something.
She whimpered when he withdrew his tongue, and then yelped when one of his fingers took its place. That small spot would never be the same to her again. How could she ever forget what pleasure it could bring?
Or what pleasure the man between her legs could bring. She shifted restlessly, needing something more. Did he feel the same way? Could she do something to relieve his pain? When she sat up this time, he didn’t try to stop her.
“Does that kissing please you, Tempie?”
She nodded. “Is there somewhere I may kiss you?” She let her gaze linger on the mysterious juncture between his thighs.
He looked torn. “I would be privileged, but I do not want to overwhelm you.”
She frowned. “You have pleasured me. I should do the same.”
After a second, he nodded. “If you like. You do not have to finish if you find it unpleasant.”
Tempie nodded
as he stood up. He stripped off his shoes, socks, and garters in record time, followed quickly by his jacket, cravat, shirt, and breeches. That reminded her she still wore her garter and stockings, so she dispensed with them as he returned to her bed.
She gasped at her first sight of his organ, jutting up from his body. It was larger than she had imagined. It looked quite different too. When he had said staff, she had pictured it much like a gnarled piece of wood. Instead, it was smooth and straight, with a fierce red flush, especially at the head. A nest of dark hair partially obscured him, but she saw something else behind his organ.
Unable to resist, she reached out to stroke his staff. “What are other names for this?”
Air hissed between his teeth when she tightened her grip. “Prick, pillicock, rod, rudder, member, horn…” He trailed off, seeming to lose his train of thought as she wrapped her hand around his staff and moved her hand up and down.
When he groaned, she stopped. “Did I hurt you?”
“Not at all. It feels decadent, Tempie.” He put his hand around hers, urging her to tighten her grasp. He moved their hands up and down, stroking his member. “That is heaven.”
When he took away his hand, she continued to apply the same level of pressure and mimic his movements. His face turned red, and he seemed to be struggling with something. She paused, hand wrapped around the bulbous tip of his man part. “I want to kiss it.”
He let out a low groan, but didn’t try to stop her when she nudged his shoulder so he would lie down. Tempie positioned herself between his thighs, as he had done with her. Feeling shy, she touched her lips to the tip, giving him a small kiss. Encouraged by the way his body jumped, she kissed him again, this time opening her mouth. She flicked her tongue across the tip, making him grunt. His hips raised off the bed, and his shaft slid inside her mouth.
She blinked at the unexpected invasion, but didn’t reject it. Liquid leaked from the tip of his prick as she started sucking him, much the same way he had sucked on her nipples. It just felt like the right thing to do. Tempie made a mental note to ask him if he produced the salty liquid to allow him to copulate with a woman. Or perhaps it carried his seed?
Tentatively, she took in more of his staff, until the head rested against the back of her throat.
Recalling how he had shown her to stroke up and down with her hand, she began sliding her mouth up and down his shaft, while sucking on the end. He thrust against her face, sending his member in deeper, but she was too caught up in the moment to withdraw. Instead, she sucked as hard as she could, sensing he was nearing an orgasm. Was that what men had too, or was it a different term? That was another question to ask him later.
She whimpered when he suddenly sat up, pushing her away. Ashby grasped the head of his prick, looking like he was squeezing himself. After a moment, he took a deep breath. “I pray I did not hurt you in my rush to pull out. I did not want to let loose a torrent in your mouth.”
She nodded, pretending to be knowledgeable for a half a minute before curiosity compelled her to ask, “Torrent of what?”
“It is the fluid that carries my seed and makes babies.” He looked a little self-conscious. “I did not want to make the experience unpleasant for you.”
She felt proud of herself for having deduced his seed was in the liquid. Tempie froze. “Did we make a baby?”
He shook his head. “My seed must be in your cunt for that to happen.”
She experienced a surge of relief, mixed with a tinge of regret. In her mind’s eyes, she could clearly see a dark-haired, dark-eyed infant, looking just like his father, and held in her arms.
Abruptly, she realized he still had not found release. “What about your orgasm?”
He shrugged. “I shall tend to it later.”
Tempie stretched and crawled forward, moving toward him like a big cat stalking her prey.
“Will it always make a baby if you spill your seed inside me?”
He shook his head.
“Will you put your staff inside me tonight?”
Ashby’s eyes widened. “I cannot. It would not be fair to you. Your maidenhead is a prize best saved for your future husband.”
Tempie grimaced. “I do not want a husband, Ashby. They are fops and dandies. You are the only man I want to give it to, the only one who makes me feel this way.”
He swallowed. “You should consider what you are saying.”
She nodded. “I am. I want you to join your organ with my woman parts.”
Ashby shifted to put a little distance between them. “I shall take your maidenhead, but on one condition.”
Eyes narrowed, she asked, “What condition?”
“You shall be my wife. I will apply for a special license, and we will wed as soon as possible, in case our lovemaking produces a child.”
Considering she didn’t want a husband, it was odd when his words brought a rush of joy.
She frowned, forcing it back. “There is no need to be so noble, sir.”
Ashby laughed, though he sounded strained. “’Tis not noble, my love. I have wanted you since before you moved into my home and became my ward. Your father hoped I would marry you. It has been my plan all along, but I wanted to allow you a chance to grow up and see if there was someone else you wanted to marry.”
Tempie blinked, his words sinking in. “I suppose that is why Papa selected you for my guardian instead of Aunt Millicent.” She frowned. “I do not wish to be married because you feel obligated.”
“I only feel obligated to marry you quickly because I want to make love with you tonight.
Otherwise, I would suggest a reasonable time for our engagement—at least long enough for the bans to be called.” Ashby pushed hair off her face. “I am in love with you, Tempie. I have been since you were fifteen. The past four years have been torture for me, especially since your father died and entrusted you to my care.”
He loved her? How did she feel? She couldn’t deny a strong attraction to him. Hadn’t he been the man to which she had measured all the others and found them lacking? She even had to examine her rather tame intimacies with Pru in a new light. Had she chosen her female friend for exploration in an attempt to avoid other men? None had appealed to her, except Ashby, and he had seemed out of reach. She had contented herself with the affections she shared with Pru and tried to forget about her feelings for her guardian.
Feeling a little teary-eyed, she said, “I would be pleased to be your wife, Ashby.”
“Thank goodness.” He moved closer, pulling her into his arms. “I do not know how much longer I could have resisted sinking my staff inside you. If you had not agreed to marry me, there would have been only one other option, and you are not ready for that.” As he spoke, he squeezed her buttocks to explain his words.
Her mouth dropped open before closing with a snap. “You can do that?”
“Eventually. It will take preparation, but we have years to work on it.” His hand drifted to her pussy, cupping her. “I am far more interested in this opening at the moment.”
Tempie pushed back a quiver of uncertainty when he urged her to lie down. He knelt between her thighs, similar to his earlier position, but higher. She closed her eyes when his finger slipped inside her to massage the nubbin hidden within her folds. He stroked her until she was arching and crying out his name, almost at the precipice of another orgasm.
She gasped when he pushed inside her with one of his fingers, followed by a second. It burned for a moment, but the caresses on her nub soon made her forget the discomfort. He soon brought her over the edge. Tempie cried out as she came, her pussy convulsing. As she trembled under the force of her release, she felt the head of his staff breach her interior barrier. The last waves of pleasure blended with the intense, but brief, pain of his possession as he claimed her maidenhead.
He continued to stroke her as he thrust into her. Soon, she found herself matching his rhythm, as her body acted of its own accord. She tensed as another orgasm swept over her.
Ashby continued to hold her as he rolled them to their sides. He pressed a kiss against her forehead. Lethargy overtook her, and the last thing she heard before falling asleep was his declaration of love. She would give hers the next time she was awake—perhaps she would even manage to tell him before physical yearnings overwhelmed her, and she demanded he make love to her again.
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Continue reading for a sneak peek of PHANTOM CARESSES: Kevah, cursed three hundred years ago for raping a Gypsy woman, has a chance at redemption and breaking the curse. He has to seduce a willing virgin to end the spell. The only problem is, Kevah is invisible. College student Regan is everything he needs, if only he can persuade her to accept his phantom caresses.
Carnal Publishers and Katya Fallon reserve all rights to PHANTOM CARESSES. Please obtain permission before copying any part of this ebook. Resemblances to any person, living or dead, are coincidental. In compliance with United States erotica laws, all characters are 18 or over.
©Katya Fallon, 2011
Phantom Caresses
Simon prostrated himself before the unseen presence of his master. In his forty-two years of service, and during his father's tenure as the Master's servant, Simon had never seen his face.
Nor his body, for that matter. "Master?"
"I am here, Simon." Master's voice was a silken purr, with an edge of steel. Layered with the accents of the places where he'd lived throughout the centuries. His was an unusual voice, one that never failed to bring a chill to Simon's spine. "You are late."
"I-I'm s-s-sorry, m-m-Master."
Simon stiffened when he felt the Master's breath on his neck. He squeezed his eyes shut and concentrated on not urinating in his pants.
A soft draft of air carried his words to Simon's ear, "Did you find one?"
