THE VIRGIN COURTESAN

by MICHELLE KELLY,

  ‘Juliana!’ she heard his voice and sagged against the nearest tree with relief.

  ‘I’m here,’ she called, her voice thin and high. She realised she was shaking. As Guy emerged from the gloom in front of her she had to restrain herself from hurtling into his arms. As it was he came swiftly over to her, pulling off his shirt and wrapping it around her without a care for his own comfort. Not that the thin shirt did little to warm her but it helped preserve her modesty a little, for her breasts were nearly visible through the thin and now damp material of her chemise. She flushed at her own foolishness.

  ‘Are you crazy?’ In spite of his words there was no anger in his tone, and when Juliana saw the concern in his eyes, she could have wept. But then as his eyes flickered over her, wet and half-dressed, the desire in his eyes was evident. Juliana swallowed, meeting his gaze. The sight of his strong body without his shirt and his dark hair slicked to his head from the rain, making his eyes even more piecing in the half light, caused a surge of a rather different emotion to rise within her. She realised she had been running away from her own response to him as much as from the man himself. She wanted him, and damn the consequences.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he began, ‘I meant no disrespect. You looked so beautiful...’ his voice trailed off as Juliana pressed herself into him and kissed him again, no longer caring what he thought of her, or what was proper. Guy was too shocked at her sudden about-face to respond at first, then his mouth closed over hers, the rush of desire staggering him. For a wild moment he wanted to take her here and now, up against the tree, with her flimsy chemise around her thighs and her breasts pressed against his chest. This time however it was he who broke away, feeling her shivering against him.

  ‘We must get back. It’s just through here.’ Indeed, they only walked a short way before Juliana saw the inn through the trees. She must have doubled back on herself.

  ‘Why, and I thought I was lost!’ she laughed, but Guy heard the note of hysteria. She had been through enough tonight for any woman. The urge to protect her from any further harm was unbearable.

  ‘Anything could have happened to you,’ he reprimanded when they were back in the room, averting his eyes from the outline of her body through her damp chemise as she wrapped herself in the blankets. ‘Were you really so terrified of me you would risk your life?’ He clenched his fists in self-disgust, then jumped as he felt her cool touch on his back. He turned to her, eyes questioning. She was looking up at him with an expression he couldn’t read, but she looked at once incredibly vulnerable and entirely tempting.

  ‘Perhaps I was more terrified of myself,’ she murmured, ‘of my reaction to you.’ Even as she said it, she knew it was true. Once again his arms went around her and this time neither of them pulled away. Guy clutched her with such force her feet were nearly lifted off the ground. His tongue explored her mouth in a way that made things low down in her body tighten and throb, and she felt her nipples stiffen with more than the cold she had been exposed to. Indeed, she no longer felt cold at all; a delicious warmth started in her belly and moved through her body like liquid, coming to rest in her most secret place. She wanted his hands on her, there and everywhere else, and made no protest as Guy stripped her of the blanket and then her chemise.

  His eyes were narrowed with his own desire as he stepped back to drink in her body, his eyes leaving a burning trail across her skin as he took in every inch of her. Juliana stood proud. Although all of her breeding screamed at her to cover herself, there was no denying her body’s reaction to his admiration, his gaze like a caress across her flesh. Better this, she decided in the heat of the moment, better to give herself to a man she truly desired and who looked at her with such passion, than one who saw her as a piece of flesh to be bargained for.

  ‘You are truly beautiful.’ Guy said, his voice low, and he swept her up, making her gasp at the sudden movement, and carried her to the fire, bringing the blanket with him. He carried her with such confidence she felt as light as duck down in his arms. He laid her down upon the blanket with a tenderness that made her smile as he lay next to her, running his hand up and down the length of her body, running fingers around her breasts and grazing them over her hips. Light feathery kisses followed, until Juliana felt she would explode with wanting. As he circled his fingertips around her breasts, her nipples puckered as if straining for his touch, his mouth, and she heard a soft mewing sound that she realised came from her own lips. It was a sound of more than lust; it was need. The whole world had shrunk down to this room, this moment, with the fire warm against her back and his hands playing over her body.

  She knew what to do; Rose had spent weeks coaching her on the ways to please a man, but Juliana had never expected to feel such wanton need, accompanied by an almost exciting fear. When he finally crushed her breasts together and took her nipples in his mouth she moaned aloud with a pleasure so intense it was almost painful, arching her back under his touch. All of Rose’s step-by-step instructions flew from her mind as her own body took over. As he flicked his tongue over each of her nipples in turn, coaxing them to pucker and peak even further, she moaned his name. He raised his head from her breasts, looking at her with such intensity she bit her lip, catching her breath.

  ‘Does that please you?’ he murmured, running a hand over the curve of her hip towards her thigh. She nodded mutely, then threw her head back with delicious abandon as he returned his mouth to her breasts. When her breath was coming in pants, he finally released her, but not with the intention of pausing in his explorations of her body; he moved down, his mouth leaving a burning trail across her stomach, over her hips to her inner thighs, and she parted her legs for him, blushing under his gaze as he pulled back. He looked at her with a seriousness that seemed out of place.

  ‘I mean you no dishonour,’ he said through gritted teeth, and she felt a thrill as she realised how much self-control it had cost him to hesitate, ‘I would ask your consent.’

  She nodded feverishly and reached for him, pulling him to her in a kiss, to silence him before she did indeed reason herself out of this and allowed her mind to overrule what her body—and perhaps also her heart—craved. As he released himself from his falls, allowing his erection to spring free, she reached down for him and closed her hand around his shaft, making him groan and gasping herself. Nothing Rose had told her could have prepared her for the thick heat of him, for the way he twitched in her hand or the way she could sense the pulsing need in him, the way that the throb of her own body matched that need. Her excitement was matched only by her fear. Would this hurt her? He felt so large in her hands. Rose had taught her that men were pliable, easily handled, that ultimately she would be the one in control, but she had never felt so out of control in her life, and it was her body that felt pliable in his hands. The hands that reached down to stroke her now, finding that sensitive nub that ached for his touch—she dared not voice her fears in case he stopped, and she didn’t want him to stop. A need grew inside her that she had no name for, that was as much emotional as physical, an inner ache that she was desperate for him to assuage. He touched her expertly with his fingers, his stroking tender but insistent, stroking away her fears. Her body opened up to him like a flower unfolding.

  Although when he bent his head to taste her damp heat, she tensed, flushing with embarrassment. She fought the urge to close her legs; Rose had told her about this, too, told her how to writhe and moan and encourage, but had never mentioned that she might actually enjoy it, might want his mouth on
her. It felt deliciously wicked. She reached to stop him, then hesitated at the wanton sensations that began to ripple through her. She had never known such pleasure existed; even on the nights when she had dared reach down and touch herself, she had never felt this. At such times she had been thinking of her wedding night, sometime in the future, and given recent circumstances any such desire had flown...only to be awakened with such force by this man. Never in her fantasies had her bridegroom been so wickedly handsome or so intent on her pleasure.

  A tension built deep inside her, growing in intensity until she had to fight not to writhe against his mouth and beg for more, instead a whimpering sound came from her and her body flooded with heat. Just as she thought she would cry out in complete abandon, he raised himself over her, still thick and hard. Ready for her. The sight of him took her breath away. He leaned down and kissed her, plunging his tongue into her mouth as he pushed himself inside her, and then she did cry out. A sudden stab of pain startled her but it was quickly gone, to be replaced by the unfamiliar but not unpleasant sensation of being completely filled. Her body stretched and was claimed by his. She reached her arms around him, hungry for the strength and warmth of his body on hers, but suddenly he was still, raising himself on his elbows and staring down at her in horror. She cringed under his gaze.

  ‘Why didn’t you say? I thought...you said...’ he began to ease himself out of her and she grasped his hips.

  ‘I did not lie,’ she said quickly, ‘I was indeed on my way to see a new patron. My first.’

  Guy shook his head, speechless, a tumble of confused emotions in his eyes as his desire fought with his sense of honour. She could feel him begin to soften inside her and she arched her back, urging him on.

  ‘It is done now,’ she gasped out, ‘and it was my choice.’ The words struck her even as she spoke them. She had thought becoming a courtesan and agreeing to sell her virginity to Lord Salter had been her choice, but it was one made of desperation and the will to survive, not of desire. This man, this night, was the choice her body and heart would make. She looked up at him, her eyes wide and glowing in the firelight.

  ‘Please, Guy,’ she whispered, willing him to understand. If he pulled away from her now she would have given herself to him for nothing. She wanted him inside her, wanted to feel the pleasure he was bringing her towards, even as she knew there was no going back. It was already too late.

  He bit his lip as he gazed at her, then nodded as if he understood, his eyes soft, but when he began to move inside her again it was with a slower and more careful movement, kissing her neck and face almost reverently. Juliana raised her legs and clasped them around his strong back, nipping at his ear, breathing in the musky scent of him She moved her hips against his, matching his rhythm as Rose had told her to do, but it felt natural, not calculated. Her body responded to Guy with a will all of its own.

  ‘I would have all of you,’ she whispered, and he groaned and began to thrust inside her a little deeper, a little harder, until the delicious tension began again to build. He raised himself to kneel between her legs, still with his hardness filling her and began to stroke her swollen nub again, finding the sweet spot and teasing her until she was bucking her hips and crying out with no shame but pure need.

  The climax, when it came, crashed through her like a wave breaking, feeling as if she was fracturing into a thousand pieces then coming back together only to dissolve into a melting core of heat. She clutched at him as he came down upon her again, thrusting with abandon until he groaned with his own release, kissing her as if he would devour her mouth, his body trembling against hers.

  They lay together for a few moments, Juliana fighting to regain her breath, before he eased himself gently out of her. Even so, she winced, the subsiding pleasure giving way to a dull ache.

  As he placed an almost chaste kiss on her forehead and then stood, she sat and hugged her knees to her chest, feeling suddenly abandoned, but he only poured a drink and then sat down next to her, running his free hand down her back to rest in the hollow above her buttocks..

  ‘More gin?’ she laughed weakly. ‘Shouldn’t you have plied me with that first?’

  Guy looked pained at the joke. ‘I had no idea. If I had known, I would never have been so bold.’

  Juliana shook her head, overwhelmed with emotion. How could she explain how much it had meant to her to lose her virginity through her own choice, her own desire, rather than a need to survive? But even as she thought it she realised she had just given away the one thing she had to barter with.

  Guy seemed to read her thoughts. ‘I presume whoever was intending you to receive you tonight was aware? Won’t this alter your arrangements?’

  ‘One hardly needs to be a virgin to be a courtesan, I suppose,’ Juliana said bleakly. Cold reality came back together as she realised that this had changed nothing; she must still return to her chosen life in the morning. And yet it had changed everything.

  She buried her face in her hands and Guy looked at her in despair. By God, would every decision he made tonight end in calamity for this woman? He took her hand.

  ‘I will ensure you are all right, Juliana, I promise it.’

  She looked up at him, her heart leaping in a sudden wild hope, then realised he was of course talking about money. She shook her head. ‘I want none of your ill-gotten gains,’ she said, though her voice was soft. Guy kissed her swiftly on the lips and she looked at him in surprise at the tender gesture.

  ‘Shush. I’m not talking about ill-gotten gains, as you so eloquently put it. I’m no highwayman, and certainly don’t intend to ever be again given the mess I’ve made of things.’ He gave Juliana a quick account of the night’s events, and when he finished she sat looking at him with wide eyes, her hand pressed to her mouth. She didn’t know whether she felt horror at the thought of his own brother challenging him to a duel or relief that, as she had suspected, he was no common criminal at all. Now his concerns for her and his regard for her honour made sense. So she had given her body to a lord this night, just not the one she was intending to.

  She shook her head, a sudden wild laughter bubbling in her at the realisation that they had both been so badly mistaken about the other, only to be chased away swiftly by the reality of his situation. ‘How on earth could your own brother challenge you so?’

  ‘Sinclair has always hated me. Always been jealous of me; he thinks I’m our mother’s favourite because I resemble our late father, though in truth she has always spoilt him, but he can’t see it. Not to mention the fact that he thinks as the eldest he is entitled to everything. He wants the house, Bradcote, although it is legally mine. We quarrelled yesterday evening and I had to use some force on him, and in front of his friends, and so his blood was up.’ He neglected to tell Juliana the full details of how he had to pull Sinclair away from nearly beating a man to death; a man who had challenged Sinclair over the seduction of his sister. A maid in their mother’s house, no less.

  ‘Are you scared he will kill you?’ Juliana’s voice was sympathetic, even slightly horrified, but Guy’s pride bristled even though he was touched at her concern.

  ‘Scared, no. Earlier I was so angry it did not even occur to me I might lose. It is a matter of honour, and of putting an end to his ways before he hurts anyone else or squanders the family’s fortune, or both.’

  ‘But could you really bring yourself to shoot your brother?’ In spite of his obvious pride and his undoubted masculinity, Juliana could not beli
eve the man who had made love to her so tenderly could be so callous. Guy sighed. In truth, now that he had calmed down, he was wondering himself. There had to be a less bloody solution, surely? But a challenge, once accepted, must be seen through as a matter of honour, or he would risk being shunned by society. And how on earth would he keep an eye on his wayward brother then? ‘Perhaps when you return in the morning, he will have calmed down?’ she suggested, studying his profile in the firelight. She snuggled into him, and his arm went round her unthinkingly.

  ‘I doubt it; in fact, I think he would jump at the chance to get rid of me. Although he is the eldest and the heir, I hold enough in my own name that he would no doubt love to get his hands on my own inheritance. He is a gambler and a wastrel; only God knows how much he has blown already.’

  Juliana turned the name over in her mind. She was sure that Rose had mentioned a Sinclair, a notorious rakehell. And though the society ladies loved him, Rose had said he was a violent bully. Moreover, he was gentry. Lord Eversley. She looked at Guy, a sudden horrified thought occurring to her. Did Rose know him also?

  ‘I’ve not seen you around town,’ she probed. Guy shrugged.

  ‘It’s not my scene. Especially when it’s the Season and full of simpering idiots.’

  Juliana had to laugh. She had endured one Season with her stepmother, anxious to try to marry Juliana ‘up’ and so improve her own social standing. Dora Hearnshaw had quickly realised Juliana was never going to make a docile society wife, and so had had little more use for her.

  ‘And women like myself?’ she questioned him further, flushing when he grimaced.

  ‘Forgive me, but to pay for a woman’s company is not to my taste. I would rather she be in my arms of her own free will.’