Persuasion

by Owner

  tears that were not of the crocodile variety! "Oh, please Dorian, I do not

  wish to hurt you.”

  The heaving torso suddenly stilled and his mouth relinquished its fierce bite

  on her shoulder. She felt him readjust and his weight was redistributed to

  his arms as he looked down at her.

  What emotion was deep in his eyes she did not know, but he licked his lips,

  then bobbed his head and licked hers.

  "It is a good pain,” he replied with a voice that was deep and gruff.

  “You promise?” she asked, biting her lip.

  He nodded. Somberly. “A very good pain. Desist,” he commanded as she

  continued to nibble at the flesh of her mouth. “It’s my lip to bite.”

  She smiled faintly at him and as their eyes met, his hips rocked. Tension

  ripped through her again. Her neck arched and her back tautened as she

  reacted to the move. Pain fluttered over her face like a death mask and he

  grunted at the sight. She stifled a shriek as he grabbed her shoulders to him

  and spun them around so that he now lay on the floor and Lily atop him.

  Her body readjusted to this new position and her eyes widened at the bare

  torso that she was looking at. With wondering fingers, she traced her hands

  along the curved muscles and the hardened flesh. She had never seen a

  torso like it. It was . . . quite, quite beautiful. Almost as though it had been

  carved by Michelangelo! As she traced her fingers along the muscled flesh,

  she sat up and this movement had her closing her eyes for a moment. It

  seemed . . . his hardness, well, it seemed almost deeper inside her!

  How she wished she were free to ask him questions! If she were married to

  him, then she would do naught but quench her curiosity. But she wasn't his

  wife and the thought flashed pain once more along her features.

  His hands came up to cup her breasts and they pinched at the taut tips. She

  laughed and wriggled her hips at the sensation that flooded through her, but

  then he ceased and dropped his hands to her hips. "Ride me like you would

  your horse,” he commanded.

  She jolted at the suggestion but did as he bade, as his hands instructed. Her

  own fingers spread out against the breadth of his chest as she began to ride

  him as he had suggested. Lily bit her lip. As she did so, a frown creased her

  brow as the sensations that tore through her threatened to rip her asunder.

  Shallow breaths escaped her mouth as she felt him rub tortuously against

  every part of her insides and then, she cried out. For his hand had returned

  to its earlier playing ground and that hillock, that strange little hillock, was

  once more being caressed. Almost as though that fed her body, she began

  to move faster. Faster and faster until her flesh glistened in the firelight from

  the sweat that her exertion bore, until her breathing was labored and her

  face stiffened as she sought that earlier tension that had been the harbinger

  of such pleasure the likes of which she had never even known existed.

  When it came, she cried out. Her own cries in tune with his as he grunted

  and groaned, as they shared that blasting bolt of power that sizzled through

  her body as though it were a lightning bolt. Their bodies tense and taut as

  they strained against the other, she clung to him and he to her and then she

  sank. Down and down until she collapsed against his chest and rested.

  Moments later, his body relaxed and she sank deeper into him. His breathing

  grew smoother, more regulated, and more even as he drifted into sleep.

  But he still managed to tear her pride asunder.

  "Camille."

  That was his last word before he completely succumbed to slumber.

  ****

  A slight shiver racked her frame as she awoke, minutes perhaps hours later.

  The latter had her panicking, but her body was far too languorous to move

  swiftly. As she wriggled her hips a little, she realized that they were no

  longer joined and felt grief at the thought, for she had enjoyed their

  'joining’, far more than was right or decent and more than she had ever

  imagined possible.

  Slowly, she lifted herself away from him and managed to roll from his body

  without overly disturbing him. He rolled on to his side and faced the now-

  dying fire and as he did, she realized that was the source of her cold. The

  embers glowed a merry red, but they did not emit much heat.

  Biting her lip, she stood on shaky legs and almost dropped to the floor as

  pain ripped through her from inside out. Her mouth turned into a moue of

  discomfort as she hobbled to her feet and sought out her chemise and cloak.

  Her legs ached from the cramped position, but the soreness in between her

  thighs was the direct source of her discomfort. She winced as she bent down

  and touched that area, patting it tenderly as though that would sooth it, but

  it did naught.

  Flinching as she moved, Lily reached for her chemise and tugged it on over

  her head. For a moment, she seated herself on the chair he had earlier used

  and spread her legs. In the light of the candles, she noticed that there was

  blood on her thighs, and, at the unwelcome reminder, all that she had

  earlier blocked out upon entering this room returned and she bowed her

  head against it.

  How she wished that she had the freedom to touch him once more. To let

  her hands curl in his hair and to stroke the sinews of his back . . . but this

  was more than likely the last time she would be able to touch or even see

  him so intimately. Feeling unbearably sad at the thought, she attempted to

  secrete everything that had happened that night, so she could tuck it away

  in a box in her memory. From the pleasure to the pain, it could not be

  forgotten.

  She recalled his savagery, his roughness as he touched her, then she

  recalled the delicacy of his fingers against her skin and the gentleness as he

  guided her into moving atop him . . . . The contrast made her close her

  eyes. It had been almost as though he cared for her, loved her, as though

  she were the only woman on this Earth.

  Her eyes sought him out once more and they softened as they took in his

  sleeping form. Like a child, he was curled into the position a babe took, his

  body loose and lax as he slept the sleep of the innocent.

  If only she were so innocent.

  Wincing at the thought, she realized that now, her good name and honor

  was truly gone. With him here, it did not feel as gargantuan as it was, but

  she knew it would hit her as soon as she left this house. With Dorian, it

  mattered not for this evening had merely doubled her opinion that this was

  the man to whom she was supposed to belong, yet the Fates had seen

  otherwise and ruined it for her.

  For with her loose behavior, regardless of her virgin state, he would never

  want her as his wife. And almost as though she were not suffering enough,

  she recalled the last word on his mouth before he fell into slumber . . .

  Camille. And Lily recalled who Camille was . . . his dead wife.

  Oh, the agony. Had he thought Lily to be his dead wife?

  Shame coiled through her, followed closely by pain and anguish. She

  realized, as her heart broke, that the deep emotions s
he had placed into this

  act were felt solely by her about him. He was obviously still in love with his

  dead wife.

  Her eyes filled with hurt, she looked at him with unseen reproach.

  Had he thought her a dream? A vision of his Camille?

  Shaking like an old woman, she stood and bent down for her cloak.

  Wrapping herself in the expanse of material, she stalked from the fireplace

  and the set of armchairs and towards the door and then froze.

  Her mouth opened and closed for a moment as she looked at the portrait

  that could almost have been herself.

  The dress was now out of fashion, the hair was a different color, but the face

  . . . . It was almost like looking at herself.

  She felt sick.

  No wonder he had mistaken her for Camille, not when the resemblance was

  so unbelievably uncanny.

  How long she stood there, examining the painting, she did not know and

  only when she heard Dorian toss on the floor a little, was Lily once more

  brought to re-awareness. She had to escape this nightmare. Escape before

  he awoke. The thought of him awakening before she departed filled her with

  unbridled horror.

  Clutching her cloak about her, she swept out of the door and quietly stepped

  into the hallway. Opening the front door with the key she had used earlier,

  she relocked it and then stepped down the stairs and returned to the

  pathway. She turned to look at the house and as she did, Lily was filled with

  a poignancy that had her almost weeping. How she wished that she would

  never have to see him again . . . but her heart, her foolish, foolish heart, felt

  almost like weeping at the loss.

  Lily shook her head to clear it and then looked about her. Not much time

  had passed, as she had earlier feared upon reawakening. Yes, the sky had

  begun to lighten but not terribly so. It was still dark.

  Only a few hours, if that, had passed, yet it felt almost as though it were a

  lifetime.

  She shook her head again and spying the carriage, Lily rushed to it and into

  it. Once inside, she sucked in a breath of relief to be out of that house, but it

  was short lived.

  “You have done as asked?”

  The words came out of the dark and had her almost squealing with fright.

  Not having known that she was sharing the carriage with anyone, she felt

  almost like expiring from the shock.

  Realizing it was her blackmailer, she attempted to squint into the darkness

  but the candle had now been extinguished and she could see nothing. How

  she wished she could see his face and know who was behind this awful deed!

  “Did you?” he repeated impatiently, his voice angry now, even though only a

  few seconds had passed.

  “Yes,” she whispered shakily, swallowing convulsively as she waited for his

  response.

  Hearing the sounds of movements, she launched against the cushions and

  tried to take herself into the corner of the carriage, but to no avail. He

  reached for her, she felt his fingers dig into her skin, then grasped her by

  the knee and spread her legs.

  She cried out, wondering what he was doing and her arms began to hit at

  him. Was he about to attack her?

  “Hush!” he spat and his fingers trailed clinically along the length of her thigh,

  obviously in search of more physical evidence than her word. "Good,” he

  murmured, and he realized that he must have felt the blood that she had

  seen there earlier.

  “You beast! You devil,” she spat. “I have indeed ruined myself for you!

  Although to what ill, I'm not sure!”

  “It is not for you to question, merely to do!”

  She hissed under her breath. “It may do you no good at all,” she whispered,

  her voice tinged with both pain and glee. “I am quite certain he thought it

  was his wife and not I at all.”

  “That is all to the good. Be sure to remember that when I require your . . .

  services . . . I shall send you a missive.”

  She tensed. He wanted her to go through with that again?

  Her mouth opened to protest, but she shut it soon after. What was the

  point? He would merely threaten her mama, and, were he to do so tonight,

  after this most emotional of nights, she thought she would burst into tears!

  Could she go through with that again?

  Would it not rip her heart in two?

  And the more often she did it, would she not risk being caught?

  How she longed to argue with the blackmailer, to tell him to go to the dogs

  and be damned, but he would more than likely hurt her by slapping her and

  that would do no one any good.

  She ducked her head and sat in silence, trying fiercely to accept what was

  and ready herself for another time and another place, when she would have

  to meet Dorian and seduce him yet again.

  The carriage came to a halt and from the blackmailer's rustling, she knew he

  was about to take his leave. The door opened and he jumped out. "Be ready

  and waiting. Do not disobey me.”

  She felt terror course through her at the prospect of their next meeting.

  Closing her eyes, she sank back into the carriage seat. The horses' started

  up once again and she shook her head against what that man had forced her

  into doing.

  Shame rained down upon her like an April shower, and, with it, bitterness

  and sadness were intermingled. Never had she felt so low, so down and

  when the horses once more came to a halt and she realized that she was to

  depart, Lily knew that only a dose of laudanum would help her to sleep this

  night.

  She had forever lost the right to a night of innocent slumber and felt that

  loss as keenly as she felt the loss of her father.

  Chapter Six

  With a slight grin on her face, Lily walked through her aunt and uncle's front

  door before turning to Janie excitedly. "I can't believe how good a find that

  was, Janie. Marvelous. I've been seeking something of that nature for the

  duration of the Season! It will go perfectly with the shot-silver satin I’ve

  been planning on wearing to attend the Duchess of Hamptons' ball. Such

  good fortune.”

  Her eyes look heavenward at Janie's sour look and as they did, she noticed

  the bluer than blue sky and a happy smile lit her face. Nature was so

  beautiful. It was difficult to remember how wonderful it could be in London.

  At the estate, it was as easy as sin.

  Wherever one looked, one could see the miracle that was nature. From the

  snowy peaked mountains, and the babbling brooks that were clearer than

  the prettiest diamond, to the sounds of animals on the home farms and the

  scents of clean and pure air . . . Heavenly.

  Not for the first time since her arrival in the capital, she wondered how on

  earth year-round residents of the city could stand the filthy air. A simple

  stroll around the shopping arcades had one feeling as though one were in

  dire need of a bath, so bad was it! She wondered if the majority of people

  did not notice it and that perhaps, she was just difficult . . . . That sounded

  quite correct and she had to hide a smile at the thought.

  Moving her gaze away from the beautiful, clear as a mountain spring sky,

 
she focused on Janie's scowling face.

  “Aye, good fortune is the right word, miss. Sixty pounds! Sixty pounds on a

  necklace.” The maid shook her head and Lily hid a smile as Aunt Millie's

  elderly and set-in-his-ways butler glared at the older woman, obviously

  disapproving of her tone.

  It wasn't done to chide the mistress, after all, at least not in this household.

  In her own home, Janie ruled the roost for the most part and had done since

  her days as the nursery maid. Lily was therefore used to being chided and

  chivied along. Indeed, she was quite sure she would miss her maid's

  reprimands were she to cease being such a bossy boots!

  Lily caught Rodgers' eye and shook her head, the motion so tiny that Janie

  didn't see it. A man of Rodgers' possession was trained to catch such a slight

  move and so, the message was received in silence. He flushed with

  discomfort but lowered his head in understanding.

  Janie's brash outspokenness was one of the major reasons why Lily loved

  her. Yes, loved her.

  “It isn't done,” the maid said, completely unaware of the disapproval in the

  air. “Your mother or brother should be buying your jewelry, Miss Lily. You

  can't just walk into Hemingtons and spend sixty pounds on a necklace! And

  all those gentleman there, smirking at us as they made their own purchases.

  Why, I've never been so embarrassed in all my life! Why you had to choose

  that jeweler is beyond me! I swear you do it to have me flush with

  discomfort, Miss Lily! You always were a naughty girl! I should have spanked

  you more. I knew it at the time that I was making a rod for my own back,

  but you'd start to whimper and cry and I'd roll over like a naughty puppy!

  And now, the Good Lord is avenging my laxness. I knew the day would come

  . . . I'd just hoped that it wouldn't be so soon!”

  Lily chuckled and hid another smile as Rodgers jerked with yet more

  disapproval. She stepped into the front hall and allowed Janie to remove her

  pelisse before pulling the finger of each glove away from her hand. "I could

  not help that that particular set of jewelry was in that jeweler's now could I,

  Janie? I also could not help that it caught my eye! I've been seeking

  something of that nature for far too long to simply walk away from it

  because it was an establishment for gentlemen.