by Owner
For goodness' sake, she had not even thought about the marriage bed at all!
And that was good and proper. The marriage bed was sanctified by the Lord
and the law! So, contemplating what she was about to do was very difficult
indeed. Was it any wonder that she felt as frightened as lamb that was being
led to the slaughter? Was it?
The similarities between that simile and her own situation had her wincing.
For what was she, if not a lamb? Biting her lip, she ducked her head but
continued to follow the butler and simply swallowed as panic once more
assailed her.
The only comfort was not much of a comfort at all and its source was the
blackmailer! Everything he had told her was true and so, she could not
disbelieve the fact that he would not hurt her mother if needs must. That
thought strengthened her against what was about to happen and even
though it went against every principle, she would do this to ensure her
mother's safety.
She heard the servant stop and slowly, he tapped at the door. Without
waiting for a reply, he opened the door and then left her alone as he swept
off to wherever or from whatever part of the house he had originated.
Lily moved to stand in the doorway and she blinked against the flurry of
lights that beset her eyes. In comparison to the darkened corridors, the
study was warm and well-lit. A fire burned merrily in the hearth and candles
were dotted about the place. Before the fire were a set of armchairs and
from that area, someone cleared their throat, “Is that you, Hague?” the
voice asked, shaking distinctly.
She flinched and said nothing, but merely walked into the study and closed
the door behind her. The creak of leather was clearly audible but he didn't
stand up. Thereafter, the sound of him slamming backwards into his seat
had her frowning a little, but as she traversed the short length from the door
to the seating area, she noticed the decanter of brandy that rested on the
table in between the armchairs and the glass that was perched awkwardly in
his hand looked set to swiftly tumble on to the floor.
Rounding the armchairs, Lily dropped the cloak from around her face and
made to stand directly before him. For what seemed like forever, they stared
at each other. At first, with confusion and incomprehension, which she
believed was fueled by alcohol. She damned herself for it, but Lily couldn't
help but look upon him with tenderness. Her fear had disappeared for it was
this man, it was Dorian, not the Earl who had made her feel things that she
had never felt before. Things that she had never before imagined and that
had reawakened her to this life after the period of depression she and her
family had settled into after her father's death.
Her only regret was that this was happening in these particular
circumstances. As she stood there in the heated silence, her body reacted to
his presence and she wanted him, more than she'd ever wanted anything in
her life.
How she wished that this want had been sanctioned by the Lord and then
there would be nothing wrong with it. She could stand here and it would
merely be classed as doing her duty with her husband! And certainly nothing
to be ashamed of!
The meeting of their eyes seemed to have lasted forever and with a faint
smile, she let the cloak drop from her shoulder and fall to the floor, where it
draped about her feet. Standing before the fire as she was, Lily knew that
her body would be back-lit and that he would be seeing her in all her glory.
At that moment, she ceased to feel shame and simply vowed to enjoy what
little she could have of him.
He blinked. Once, twice and then a third time. Almost as though he could
not comprehend what he was seeing, but he lifted his hand and his fingers
curled as he reached for her. Without hesitation, she clasped his within her
own, and, with that, he tugged her on to his lap.
For what seemed like endless moments, Dorian stared at her almost as
though he were in a dream, and perhaps he felt as though he actually was
and that she was a figment of that illusion, but she wasn't. She was flesh
and blood and damn her to the fiery pit of hell and damnation, but she
wanted this man, who stared at her as though she were a ghostly apparition.
Lily wanted him in ways that she had not even known possible and only now
as she sat there in relative silence, with the flickering flames of the fire in
the background and the slight tick tock of the clock, with her body bared
brazenly to his gaze could she understand it.
Licking her lips, she curled into him as though seeking protection and almost
as though something inside him responded to that, he accepted her change
of position and pressed her close to him. Once her head was nuzzled on his
shoulder, he turned his head awkwardly to watch her and then, only then,
did he raise his hand and clasp her chin between his thumb and forefinger.
Even in the darkened room, she could see his eyes slowly start to fill with . .
. hunger, desire . . . emotions that had never before touched her, yet were
easily recognizable to her. She felt quite sure that he would be able to see
those same feelings in her own eyes.
A part of her felt ashamed, but another could not hide from the need that
had slowly started to course around her. A virgin, she might have been, but
at her core and beneath all of society's dictates, she was a woman. And as
had the women who had lived in caves and the women who now walked the
streets togged from top to toe in expensive fabrics and with a duenna at
their side, she knew what she felt, what she was experiencing and she
wanted. Oh, how she wanted. It overpowered the shame and made her feel
so gloriously alive that when he finally slid his hand down the curve of her
throat and cupped her there, she shivered.
The slight press of the finger tips there against the delicate bones of her
neck, had her arching a little higher and when he finally released her and
gathered her hair about his hand, she gulped faintly and almost jumped out
of her skin, when he glared down at her. "What are you doing? Are you here
to torment me?”
“I'm here for you,” she whispered after a moment's pause. “Not to torment,
to give pleasure, to explore what exists between us.”
Her words had grown quieter the longer she had spoken as her voice had
grown huskier and huskier. Lily was surprised that she'd had the courage to
even murmur half of what she had! Never mind the entire statement!
He studied her for what felt like a lifetime and his searing gaze sent an
equally fierce blush across her cheeks.
Eventually, Dorian tapped her on the chin and then he turned and
unerringly, he leaned down until their mouths hovered above the other. She
could feel her lips quiver as his breath washed against them and the tender
and sensitive skin reacted so delicately that she closed her eyes and her
neck arched backwards in delicate submission. When he joined their mouths,
she sighed breathlessly against him and let him lead her into the dance of
passion, for she knew not how
to entice. How she wished that she did!
When his tongue swept along the length of her lower lip, she moaned a little
and the movement must have been what he'd been seeking, for the tensile
muscle slipped inside her mouth. She almost died of shock at that moment
and it took every ounce of her composure to remain still in his arms.
What was he doing?
Her mind sought frantically for an answer and when his tongue finally
touched hers, she felt that franticness yet again but this time, there was an
understanding. The sensations that were wrought from that one slight move
had her belly quivering and with a shaking hand, she clasped him about the
other shoulder and pulled him closer to her.
A sigh slivered from her throat as he began to mate her with his mouth and
she responded in kind, with a quickening of her tongue against his. Even
though her senses felt almost inebriated, she focused on his actions and
gestures, wanting to please him as he pleased her.
Any thoughts of the outside world had now disappeared. With one simple
touch, he had her in his web and she never wanted to leave it.
His hand roughly swept away from her throat and down over the curve of
her body. Out of nowhere, she heard the rip of fabric and knew that the
chiffon dress, which when fully illuminated looked like an over-kirtle rather
than an actual robe, had been torn. He tugged at the heavier linen of her
chemise and pulled it from her body and then released her mouth from his
captivity and quickly shucked the whole covering from over her head and on
to the floor.
Nerves returned now and with a fierceness that had her shaking in his hold.
If he noticed, he did not mention it, merely gathered her tighter in his arms
before almost frightening the life out of her by pulling out of the chair and
then dropping to his knees with her in his embrace.
She shuddered as he half-crawled to the hearth and laid her before it like
some Roman offering to the Gods. The chiffon, now in rags, lay about her
limply but he did not remove her from its confines. He just looked at her,
but she could not watch him do so. She closed her eyes and let him have his
fill.
Only when she felt the faint touch of his hand against her breast did her
eyelids flutter open. She watched with parted lips as his fingers, so large in
comparison to her own, rimmed the shapely circle of the peak atop her
breast and beneath her gaze and his, it puckered strangely. Naturally, this
was not the first time it had happened but never before a man. She was not
sure if this was supposed to happen, but he did not appear to be disgusted
and so she relaxed a little and kept her eyes trained on him and his moving
hand.
Slowly, it shifted from her breast and down over her belly, where he
explored the silken expanse before trailing his fingers along the curve of her
hip and down along the line that led to her inner thighs. When his hand was
almost between her thighs, she had to fight everything that was in her to
relax and to not clasp and restrain his hand so as to forbid him entry. It took
every ounce of will power and somehow she managed to let him touch her.
She slowly released her pent up breath on a quivering sigh as he touched
the bristling hairs at the apex of her body and then, down . . . down . . .
down . . . .
Lily gulped. She could not help it. Her eyes were trained on the paneled
ceiling of the room as he touched her intimately, explored her most secret
parts and she found it difficult to be responsive when every part of her
longed to snap her thighs closed and hide this part of herself from him. No
matter how hard she tried, she could not relax into this new and strange
sensation.
Releasing deep exhalations every few seconds, she focused on anything but
his touch and only when he stopped and paused, did her eyes flicker from
their study of a rather pretty Oriental vase and back to his face. There was a
deep concentration there and he caught her eyes as he grabbed her legs by
the ankle and slowly but surely separated them as he simultaneously lifted
them upwards. She blanched and wondered what on Earth he was doing, but
he merely moved closer to her and then crouched down and on to his belly.
She frowned down at him and again wondered what he was about, and then
she noticed where the position put him, down there. She closed her eyes
and wished she could hide as Lily felt the petals of her sex being separated
by his blunt fingers and then came the . . . a stifled whimper escaped her as
something touched her and in a place she had not expected it. Curling
upwards on to her belly a little, she studied him with shocked eyes and
realized it was his tongue! His tongue!
Unsure of whether to be disgusted or aroused, she sank back to the floor
and sucked in another breath, which was quickly released on a moan as he
touched a special place that sent shards of pleasure through her body in a
most discomforting way. She flinched as his teeth nibbled that same place,
which she could only describe as a small hillock at the center of her
womanhood, before he suckled it.
Sweat began to bead along her forehead and more than that, it began to
course around her body. The combined heat of the close fire and then
sensations, the strange and unnerving sensations this man was inspiring in
her body, pushed her into perspiring. Lily felt quite disgusted at her body's
reaction, but not enough to protest or to tug his head away. Indeed, not.
She instead and shockingly spread her legs a little wider and rocked her hips
upwards. Almost as though it were the invitation he had been waiting for, he
sucked harder at that hillock, then darted it back and forth between his
teeth and tongue. His fingers explored her intimacy once again and this
time, there was moisture that eased their path. She felt him . . . his fingers .
. . inside her body. She was not sure how, all that she was aware of was the
sensations he was inspiring inside her.
Quivers and shivers and shudders racked her frame almost incessantly until
she felt almost as though she were being rattled to High Heaven! Her head
thrashed back and forth and her belly and hips undulated against his mouth,
against what he was doing to her. Suddenly, tension shot through her. From
where it came, she did not know but she fought it and it disappeared and as
it disappeared she mourned its loss.
It came again and her body instinctively fought it but her mind told her to
accept. Her heart told her to welcome it. But her body won. As his tongue
and teeth and mouth and lips worked in conjunction, that tension
reappeared and this time her mind and heart conquered. Delirious glee and
pleasure shot through her with the power of star burst and her thighs
clamped around his head as she arched in sheer abandoned excitement as
this powerful burst of sensation darted around her body.
Almost as though she were in another world, he pulled away from her and in
her heightened state, she cried out for him. Within seconds, he returned but
no longer at such a low height. He was directly above her
. Where his head
had been between her thighs, now his hips were quite firmly entrenched
there. She cried out as another dart of ecstasy imploded in her belly and
suddenly, quite suddenly, there was hardness at the center of her being. Her
body reacted and stiffened but his penetration coincided with that ecstatic
burst of delirium and he thrust into her until she felt quite sure he had
pierced her belly.
Her body, now confused, rolled and undulated all the more as she fought to
accept this thing that was inside her. Her insides quivered and fluttered as
she battled herself and only when he began to kiss her, could she relax even
a little.
His hips rocked against hers and she whimpered, her eyes flaring with alarm
as she realized that there was more of him to push inside of her. Terror
fought with the lax pleasure that had once roiled through her, but his mouth
pressed her to distraction. Within seconds, he was panting heavily against
her shoulder, his . . . she was not sure what . . . completely embedded
inside her belly.
She felt slightly resentful that her pleasure had been so swiftly disregarded,
but the selfless part of her nature argued that he had caused her to feel that
wonderful, powerful, crest of passion . . . did he not deserve it too?
Biting her lip at the thought, she concentrated on relaxing around him, but
the more she attempted to relax, the more he groaned and she thought that
she must be hurting him. Hurting him quite dreadfully if the sounds were
anything by which she could go!
Lily herself started to pant, but with fright! She did not understand why she
should be causing him pain, but suffering he was. His mouth was biting
down against her shoulder and while it hurt, it was a pleasant sensation. Her
brother had bitten down in a similar way, when a physician had been called
to re-set his leg after a tumble from his horse . . . was she hurting him in a
similar way?
In apology, she stroked his back. Up and down, up and down. Massaged the
taut muscles clustered around his spine and then, rather daringly she
thought, the equally tautened and hardened planes of his buttocks. A flush
covered her cheeks as she did this, but she continued, wanting to do
anything to please him.
When it did not seem to work, she stared up at him, her eyes filled with
