Persuasion

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