A Lady's Virture

by A. S. Fenichel

  She collapsed against him, and he held her while the waves of pleasure wracked her body.

  “How do I make you feel that way, Tony? I want to give you the same pleasure.”

  Try as he might to hold himself at bay, her words had his shaft at full attention. He untied the fall of his breeches, letting her see the effect her orgasm had on him.

  Tentatively, she touched him, running one finger up his length.

  He inhaled, and she repeated it with two fingers then her entire hand until she gripped him and slid up and down. It was sweet and sultry, driving him to the brink of eruption.

  “Am I doing this right?” She leaned down and kissed the head of his cock.

  “Dear God, Sylvie.”

  She sat up, eyes wide. “Have I done something wrong?”

  He closed his eyes and controlled his body. “You are perfect, but that will have to wait for another time. I don’t think this will last long if you kiss me there tonight.”

  “Then you like it when I kiss you there?”

  “I like it very much.” Just the conversation was so erotic, he was near to bursting.

  She cocked her head. “And is there anywhere that I should not kiss you?”

  Invalid or not, he pressed her back on the bed. “Nowhere. You have full reign of my body, my queen.” He kissed her abdomen and dipped his tongue inside her bellybutton.

  A tiny gasp escaped, and she arched her back.

  He ran his tongue straight down and licked her bud, making her jump but open her thighs wider for him. He pulled that bud into his mouth and suckled then slid his tongue around and around before sucking again. Her body clenched, and he slipped his thumb inside her, reveling in the way her core tightened around his digit.

  “Goodness, Tony. Is it always like this?” She leaned up on an elbow.

  Leaning on his left elbow, he faced her. “For us it will be.”

  Dipping her head, she looked at him from hooded lids and was possibly the most adorable thing he’d ever seen. “Show me how to give you pleasure now.”

  He rolled to his back and with little pressure gave her leave to lie on top of him. “Straddle me, Sylvie.”

  Lifting her knees brought her center to the spot just above his shaft. She eased back, bringing his head to just breach her.

  “It’s easier if you go fast this first moment and get it over with. I promise there will never be pain again.”

  Her gaze met his, and she impaled herself on him. A tear bubbled over her bottom lid.

  Cupping her head, he pulled her in and kissed her. “I’m sorry, my love. I promise, never again.” He needed to move to relish the feel of her, but he held perfectly still with her soft, tight body wrapping him in delight.

  “I’m all right. The pain has eased. I thought you had ripped me in two, but now the pain is gone.” She rocked her hips and moaned.

  The pleasure forced his own groan. He set a pace for her by gripping her hip. She rode him slowly, precisely and with agonizing beauty. Aching with a need for release, he held on and let the pleasure continue as long as she could stand it. When her body clenched, he could take no more and found his own ecstasy.

  With her forehead pressed to his throat, and her hair spread out across his chest, he could be happy like this for the rest of his life. “If you roll over, I will go to the basin and get a cloth to clean you.”

  Raising her head, she smiled at him. “You can do that another time when you don’t need a cane to make the journey.”

  Regret filled him when she climbed off him and went to clean herself. He should have kept his mouth closed and kept her with him longer.

  She returned with the clean cloth and wiped the bit of blood from his shaft.

  How could one person be so erotic and sweet at once? He grabbed her hand. “Come back to bed. I want to ask something of you.”

  “More?” She grinned but put the cloth back in the basin, dried her hands, and returned to bed, where she snuggled against him.

  “I want to go to Scotland tomorrow.”

  She sat up, horror on her face. “You’re leaving.”

  He grabbed her hands and kissed each palm, ignoring the pain the sharp movement caused in his collarbone. “No. Forgive me. I want to take you to Scotland tomorrow. Do you know the Duke and Duchess of Kerburghe?”

  Eyes narrowed in confusion, she nodded. “I have known Elinor Burkenstock since we were children.”

  “They have a castle in Scotland, and it has become a bit of a strange tradition to marry in their small chapel.” He held his breath.

  “You want to run off to Scotland and get married? No banns, no article in the paper, and no special license?” Bewildered, she repeated herself. She grabbed her nightgown, pulled it over her head, and tied only the bows at the shoulders, so it hung loose around her neck.

  Sitting up, he faced her and pulled her close. “I want to marry you, and I don’t want you to spend the next six months worried about when I will come and tell you I have changed my mind. I will never change my mind, and to make sure you know that, I want to go to Scotland, where we can ignore all the silly English traditions.”

  Sylvia blinked and pushed her hair out of her face. “Yes.”

  “Yes?”

  Finally, her gaze focused on him. “I love that you know me so well you know I will worry. I love that you have a plan to ease my concerns. I love that we will not go to Gretna Green, though I would have agreed to that as well. I will only regret that my sister will not be there. Yes, I will run away with you, to Scotland, Italy or the ends of the earth, Tony.” She leaned in and kissed him so hard he had to clutch the bed to keep his precarious balance.

  “And you don’t mind marrying a cripple?” He’d wanted to be whole before he went to her. Had thought to give himself two more weeks before he stormed the doors of Everton House.

  Smiling, she kissed the dark bruise again then leaned down and kissed his withered leg. It would take time to get his strength back. “Even if I thought it was permanent, which I’m sure it’s not, I would marry my sweet, aggravating American.”

  “I’ll never get any sleep tonight. You’ve made me very happy, Sylvie.” Giddy as a boy just out of school for holiday, he tied his fall and gentled his blouse over his head.

  “Nor I. Do you think we should send a message to His Grace and make sure he doesn’t mind our coming?”

  Michael Rollins was not the kind of duke who would mind friends showing up unannounced. “It will be fine.”

  * * * *

  Lady Chervil was the last to arrive for breakfast. As soon as she had her plate, Anthony stood up. “Sylvia and I are going to Kerburghe and getting married.”

  Sylvia stared at her plate.

  Four pair of eyes stared at him in silence.

  Sophia was the first to recover. She slapped her hands down on the table, rattling the silver. “Not without me, you’re not. If my brother is getting married, I’m going to be there.”

  “I’m going too.” Lady Chervil held up her fork with a large piece of sausage attached to it. She grinned, ready for adventure.

  Miles leaned back in his chair and nodded. “I hate to miss a good wedding. Besides, I’m not due back in London for two weeks, and returning to deal with my brother early does not appeal at all.”

  “I guess that’s settled then, we’re all going to Scotland for your elopement.” Daniel stepped to the doorway and called for the butler. He instructed him to have three carriages readied.

  Sitting, Anthony took Sylvia’s hand. “I guess I had better send a messenger ahead after all.”

  Sophia cleared her throat. “Sylvia, are you in favor of this elopement? You are very quiet.”

  Lifting her head, she blushed and smiled just as a bride should. “I am very much in favor, Sophia.”

  Anthony let go the breath he’d
been holding. She had agreed heartily last night, but had been so still this morning, he’d begun to worry that she’d changed her mind. “You should know me well enough, Sophie, to know I would never bully a woman into marriage.”

  “It never hurts to ask, Tony.” She got up. “I need to inform the children, nanny, and my maid that we will be leaving this morning. You are lucky you didn’t steal off in the night or I would have had to hunt you down with two children in tow. I would have been very aggravated.”

  “We are not running away. Just expediting our life together.” He looked at Sylvia.

  Taking a deep breath, she nodded. “And it cannot come soon enough. I do want to send a post to Lady Jane. It wouldn’t do for her to hear of my marriage from another source.”

  * * * *

  It was three days ride to Kerburghe in the borderlands of Scotland, and it was a very happy party with everyone moving from carriage to carriage with every stop. They slept two nights at inns where Anthony lay awake wishing he had Sylvia in his arms.

  Sylvia grew quiet on the last day. “Will we marry as soon as we arrive?”

  Lady Chervil was in the carriage with them, but she was either sleeping or pretending to sleep. He’d noticed her smile a few times when they spoke in low tones.

  The trepidation in Sylvia’s voice broke his heart. “No, we have to wait.”

  Where her shoulders had been tight, they relaxed. “Oh? Why?”

  “Because I wrote to your family before we left England and asked them to come to Kerburghe for the wedding.”

  Eyes wide open now, Lady Chervil sat up. “You are full of surprises, my lord.”

  “Why would you do that? Father might prevent the wedding.” Never had he met such a complicated woman. First, she was nervous about something he couldn’t pinpoint, then happy that the wedding would be delayed, then afraid it might be stopped. He couldn’t keep up.

  “You said your only regret was not having your sister at your wedding. I don’t want you to regret anything about our wedding day. Your father will not stop the wedding, and I doubt he’ll want to.”

  “Of course, he won’t. You’re marrying an earl, and you’re not under his roof anymore anyway. This entire thing is the most romantic event of my life.” Honoria dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief.

  Anthony thought he’d done the right thing, but she appeared so lost, he wasn’t sure. “Have I made a mistake, Sylvie?”

  She lurched across the carriage and hugged him. “Oh, Tony, you are the most wonderful man. How will I ever deserve you?”

  Breathing for the first time in several minutes, Anthony relaxed. “If you will love me every day for the rest of our lives, that would do nicely.”

  “I will do my best.” She sat down on the bench next to him as Kerburghe came into view. “Dear Lord, it really is a castle.”

  Hundred-foot walls loomed high over a moat with one wide bridge leading to the front gate. It was something out of a storybook but without the armed men walking the tops of the walls. “What did you think? I told you it was a castle.”

  “Yes, but this is quite foreboding.” They crossed the bridge, went through the gate and into a wide yard.

  The great doors opened, and Elinor ran out, followed by five small children. All six were waving madly while Michael Rollins, the Duke of Kerburghe, sauntered out and stood at the top of the steps.

  The carriages pulled up, and Michael trotted down to open the first, where Sylvia and Anthony rode. He handed her down. “Welcome to Kerburghe Castle, Miss Dowder. I’m honored you would choose our home for your wedding.”

  “I hope we’re not too much of an imposition, Your Grace.” Sylvia made a curtsy, but her smile faltered.

  “Not at all. Though, I do insist you call me Michael. You are a welcome distraction. Perhaps Tony told you marrying at Kerburghe has become a bit of a tradition. It seems none of my friends are patient enough to wait on English law.” Michael shook Anthony’s hand then greeted the rest of the party.

  Elinor ran over and hugged Sylvia. “I’m so happy for you. You each received a few letters this morning by messenger. I have put them in your rooms. Is the ceremony urgent? I can call the vicar immediately if you like.”

  Anthony kissed her cheek. “I think that will depend on what is in those letters.”

  “Oh, I see.” She winked. “Well, we’ll have some tea in the parlor, and you two can go up and read your mail before you join us.”

  Waiting was torture, but Anthony sat on his bed in the guest room and bided his time until he heard the last of their party traipse downstairs. He went down the hall and knocked on Sylvia’s door. “Sylvie?”

  She opened the door with unopened letters in her hand. “I’m afraid to open them. Isn’t that silly?”

  He held up three letters. “Perhaps we can read them together.”

  Backing up, she let him enter, and they sat on the edge of the bed. “You go first. Who are your letters from?”

  “I have one from my mother, one from Aunt Daphne and one from your father. Who are yours from?” He slid his finger under the seal of Mother’s letter.

  “My father and Serena and Lady Jane.” She broke the seal on Serena’s letter.

  Anthony opened the one-page letter. It was in Italian, and so he scanned it before translating. His trepidation eased. “Mother is thrilled. She is coming here with Mr. Condon as her escort.”

  She took his hand. “Are you all right with this relationship between your mother and Mr. Condon?”

  Oddly, he was. “You were right. My mother shouldn’t have to be lonely. Father has been gone a long time, and she is a beautiful woman who is full of life. I will not make her unhappy if I can prevent it.”

  Kissing his cheek, she said, “I’m proud of you.”

  He loved that she meant those words. It meant more than anyone else saying them. “Read Serena’s note.”

  “She says she knew we would suit and she will come immediately.” Sylvia giggled. “The rest is just girl talk.”

  She tore the seal on Jane Everton’s letter. “Lady Jane is sorry to see me leave the Society but delighted for us both.”

  “That’s three with only good news.” He gave her a wink.

  “Yes well, we were cowardly and went for the good news first.” She bumped him with her shoulder playfully.

  Opening the letter from Aunt Daphne, he wondered which version of his aunt would be on the page, the cutting society dame or the loving aunt? He took a breath. “My dear nephew, I am happy for you and Miss Dowder. Kerburghe is too far for me to travel on such short notice at my age. When you return to London, I hope you will allow me to give you and your new bride a proper breakfast. It would please me to do so. Warmest regards, your aunt, Lady Daphne Collington.”

  “From her ladyship, that is quite a positive response.” She drew a deep breath and let it out. “Shall I read Father’s?”

  “Let’s open them together.” He broke the Dowder seal.

  Sylvia opened her letter. “It’s not as bad as I thought. He said he will bring my mother and sister to Scotland. It says it’s very inconvenient, but at least I found a nobleman with ample funds to marry. Not exactly swimming with affection, but more than I expected.”

  “Mine just states that he approves of my request to marry his youngest daughter, and he and his family will arrive in two days.”

  They sat in silence until Anthony leaned over and kissed the top of her head. “I told you it would be fine. We will marry when they all arrive.”

  Sylvia pushed his cane to the floor, turned and straddled his lap. “I’m happy my family will come, but I’d have married you in a shack with no one to witness the event.”

  Her intense gaze and sweet words humbled him. Gripping her with his good arm, he pulled her center in close until she could feel what she did to him. “And I you, my love.”

>   Wiggling closer, she pressed her lips to his. “I wish we didn’t have to go down for tea.”

  This woman would drive him happily mad, and he couldn’t wait for their life to begin. Standing on one leg, he let her body slide down his, which forced her skirts up between them. He wrapped his hand around until he caressed her bottom. “We have a lifetime to make love a hundred different ways.” He found the sweet spot wet and willing, and he slid his fingers along the crease until she cried out.

  “Anthony, you said we had a lifetime.” She pressed against his hand.

  Longing to slip inside her and find his own release, he closed his eyes against the urge lest it overtake him. “That does not mean I can resist that look on your face when you come, sweet Everton lady.”

  She wrapped one leg around his waist, drawing her center tighter to his bulging shaft. “Don’t you think the others will wait a few minutes?”

  Light as she was, he carried her and hobbled to the wall, where he kissed her throat. “I think they will have to wait. It seems my wife-to-be is the most delicious wanton, and I am helpless to resist her.”

  She opened her mouth as he kissed her. Tongues, teeth and lips collided in almost violent passion. She muttered against his flesh, gripping his hair and spreading kisses on his cheeks, ears, and throat. “I’m so glad to hear it.”

  He’d never wanted anyone so desperately. Sure that this was the only person who could make him happy, Anthony gave himself over to her. She was his world, and fears aside, he would see to her happiness.

  Meet the Author

  A.S. Fenichel gave up a successful IT career in New York City to follow her husband to Texas and pursue her lifelong dream of being a professional writer. She’s never looked back. Multi-published in erotic paranormal, erotic contemporary, Regency historical romance and historical paranormal romance, A.S. will be bringing you her brand of romance for many years to come. A.S. loves to hear from her readers. Be sure to visit her website at asfenichel.com, find her on Facebook, and follow her on Twitter.

  A Lady’s Escape

  Read on for a sample of the first book in A.S. Fenichel’s Everton Domestic Society series