Lysandra nodded. It was just as she thought. A mistress could offer everything but her heart to her lover. And she would do well not to forget that in the heat of passion and pleasure.
“Thank you for showing me this today,” she said with a shrug. “I resisted doing something so shocking, but in the end, I believe it has given me a great education.”
“And an assignment,” Vivien laughed and her darker emotions were gone.
Lysandra looked at her in confusion. “An assignment?”
Her friend nodded. “Seduce Andrew. Draw passion from him, give him your own. The sooner you are a full participant when you make love, the sooner you will enjoy your training and become a good mistress to him…or to whomever else you end up with in the long run.”
Lysandra swallowed. It was one thing to watch a woman who possessed such boldness, but to become one, herself?
“I don’t know—” she began.
Vivien moved closer. “Don’t say that. Don’t cut yourself down before you even try. I would wager you’ve been doing that your whole life. It must stop now. You are capable of passion and desire and whatever else you want to achieve. Believe that and he will be forced to do the same.”
Lysandra nodded. Faith in herself was a difficult gift, but Vivien was correct. It had to be done to succeed.
“I will,” she said softly as she got to her feet. “Thank you, Vivien.”
“Of course,” the other woman said as she walked Lysandra down the hall and to the foyer. “I am pleased to assist you in any way. Call on me again if you have questions. Or perhaps we will see each other out in Town. I would think Andrew will begin to take you out soon and show you what a mistress does when she is on the arm of her protector in public.”
Lysandra flashed to an image of what she had just watched Annalisa and the major do, but shoved it aside. That couldn’t be correct. Not for a proper gentleman.
Although, as she left the house and allowed Wilkes to help her into her carriage, she couldn’t help but shiver at the idea of she and Andrew being so carried away by passion that they didn’t care who watched.
Chapter Eleven
Andrew shifted in his seat and stared at the door once more. He had arrived at Lysandra’s home half an hour ago, only to be told that the lady was out. Out calling on Vivien, of all people!
He had no idea what to think of it. Part of him worried that perhaps she had changed her mind about her affair with him, their training. It might be best for her in the long run, but the idea that what they shared might be over…
Well, it was far more disturbing a thought than it should have been. He frowned as he heard the door open in the hallway and the muffled tones of Lysandra’s voice as she spoke to her butler, Carlsworth. He got to his feet, listening at how her muted words were first generic and then filled with surprise, as he assumed the servant had told her of his presence in her home.
He smoothed his jacket and straightened his shoulders as the door opened and Lysandra stepped inside. Without meaning to do so, he caught his breath. By God, but she was prettier than he remembered…and his memory had been of one of the most beautiful women he’d ever met. Her chestnut hair was drawn up in a style that had probably involved the help of one of the servants he had given her. She still wore an older, out of fashion gown, which he frowned at, but she was better than the gown. Better than anything he’d ever seen.
“Hello,” she said softly. “I apologize for your wait, I had no idea you intended to call today or I wouldn’t have gone out.”
Andrew looked at her more closely. Her cheeks were slightly flushed and her breath was short with…was it excitement? He had never seen her look this way before and he liked it.
“I sent no word,” he said with a shrug. “There was no reason for you to know my intentions.”
In truth, he hadn’t known them himself. Somehow his horse had just…steered himself here, ending days of debate with himself about whether he could afford to continue this affair when it caused him such confusion and unwanted self reflection.
Lysandra held his gaze for a long moment, then she reached behind her and shut the parlor door. Andrew arched a brow. That was unexpected.
“Do you want to know where I went?” she asked, stepping closer.
“I do now that you are looking at me like I’m cream and you are the cat,” he said, keeping his voice soft so it wouldn’t reflect as much of his interest and desire as he felt.
The corner of her lip lifted slightly in a knowing, sensual smile. “That is actually quite fitting,” she said. “A cat licks the cream, doesn’t it?”
Her voice was trembling, and Andrew smiled despite his growing arousal at her boldness. She might pretend, but she was still the same shy woman who wished to cover her naked body so he wouldn’t look at her. He liked that woman.
He liked this new woman too.
“Is that what you were doing? Learning how to lick?” he asked.
Her cheeks flamed, but she stepped toward him and reached up to grab the lapels of his jacket. She drew him down to her and nodded.
“I was, indeed.” She lifted her lips to his and kissed him with heat and passion…and just a hint of desperation that he recognized far too well. When she drew back, she was even more out of breath. “I want to please you, Andrew. So very much.”
He arched a brow as the meaning of her words became clear. She had been alone for two days, waiting for him to come to her. And she had thought she disappointed him. The very opposite was true, but how could she know that? She wasn’t an experienced mistress, but more like an innocent girl he was courting. He had to treat her with the care he would give a potential bride, not a temporary bedmate, or he would leave her feeling rejected and confused.
And though he shouldn’t care, he didn’t want to do that to her. He wanted her to leave their affair better off, not worse.
He cupped her chin and tilted it upward so that she was forced to look into his eyes.
“Lysandra, I assure you, I have been nothing but pleased since I first touched you.”
Relief flickered in her gaze, proving everything he already knew, but then it was gone, replaced once more by the more daring Lysandra. She was on a mission and would not be deterred.
“I can please you more, though, I think,” she murmured as she slipped her hands beneath the shoulders of his jacket. She stripped it off without much finesse and tossed it aside.
He arched a brow. “What did you do at Vivien’s home?” he asked.
She jerked her gaze away from the shirt buttons she was opening and back to his face. “How did you know I went to Vivien’s?”
“Your servants,” he explained, and pushed her clumsy fingers aside to go to work on the shirt himself. He stripped it away and smiled as she stared at his naked chest.
It made him happy that he spent a lot of time outside in the countryside, doing physical labor on his estate that his father called menial and he called lifesaving. It made him stop thinking, at least. And if the results showed on his body and made Lysandra lick her lips like that…well, it was another reason to do what he did and damn societal expectations.
Lysandra blinked. “My servants told you?”
He nodded. “When I arrived and you weren’t here, I asked.”
She pursed her lips. “And since you pay their wages, they are really your servants and report to you in whatever way you choose.”
He arched a brow. “Does that trouble you?”
“No,” she said, stepping back. “Only I might have wanted to tell you myself. As a surprise. Now I’m sure you’ve guessed why I went there.”
“I have not,” Andrew said, catching her hand and slowly drawing her forward. He placed each of her palms on his chest and hissed out a breath of pleasure. “But I like the result.”
She opened her mouth as if to say more, but he kissed her instead. He didn’t think he could take more “descriptions” of what she had done that afternoon without exploding. And he wanted to have
something much more pleasurable than a chat before he did that.
And he had a sneaking suspicion that Lysandra needed the same. To ease whatever tension remained in her body after her visit with Vivien…and to repair any damage he’d done by making her believe he had rejected her.
She kissed him with fervor and passion, lifting up to her tiptoes to get closer as she glided her fingers into his hair and angled her mouth for better access. She tasted like honey and desire, a heady combination that made Andrew’s knees weak and cock as hard as granite in the uncomfortable confines of his trousers.
He released her from his embrace to slide his hands down to his waistband and give himself some relief, but she caught his fingers. With a smile, she whispered, “Let me.”
He stared down at her as she opened each fastening carefully and parted the fly of his pants. His cock was so ready that it popped from the opening she had created. She licked her lips as she pushed the last vestiges of his clothing away and he stood before her, naked.
“I can see why you had me undress while you stayed clothed,” she said with a laugh. “It is quite invigorating to stand here, still entirely proper, while you are naked.”
He smiled slightly. This teasing, this lightness was exactly what would serve her well as a mistress, and he was pleased to see it.
He might have said something to her, used the opportunity to impart some kind of lesson in their training, but before he could do so, she dropped down to her knees before him and took his cock in hand.
“Lysandra,” he burst out on a breath of shock and pleasure as she stroked him once, twice.
“Yes?” She looked up, all innocence, but in her dark blue eyes he saw a wickedness, a perfect understanding of what she was doing to him.
And she liked it.
“A cat in the cream, eh?” she murmured, referring back to what he’d said when she first entered the room. “I think if I were, I would lick you like this…”
She darted out her tongue and gently stroked the head of his cock with it. Stars exploded in front of Andrew’s eyes and he groaned out of pleasure. He hadn’t had a woman taste him in…years. And it was better than he remembered.
“Or would this be better?” she asked, entirely seriously. “I’m still learning, you know.”
She swirled her tongue around the tip of his cock, wetting it with heated strokes and licks.
“Lysandra,” he growled.
“Does that mean you like it or that I’m not doing it right?” she asked.
He glared at her, uncertain if she was being genuine or simply teasing him. “Don’t play too many games, my dear. Or you may end up begging in the end.”
She shrugged as she stroked him once more. “I’m not playing games. You’re to train me, aren’t you? I want to know. Watching and doing are two very different things.”
He held back another strangled moan at the idea that she had been watching others perform this act and focused. “Teasing the tip is a good way to start,” he panted. “But think of how I take you, I fully enter your body. I feel you from the head of my cock to the base.”
“So every inch feels the touch,” she said, staring at him like she was studying some tome in school. “And this touch—” She darted out her tongue and licked the head again. “Feels as good as this one.”
She flattened her tongue on the underside of his cock and stroked the length.
Andrew reached behind him to steady himself on the closest chair. “Yes,” he managed to groan out. “Yes.”
She nodded. “And then there’s this.”
Without warning, she drew him into her mouth, taking him deep into her throat.
“Oh my God,” Andrew gasped. “Yes. Yes, just like that. Now stroke. Take me with your mouth like you would with your pussy.”
Her eyes lit up like she fully understood the connection between whatever she had seen and what she was doing now. Slowly, she began to stroke as he had ordered, taking him in and out as she gripped his cock at the base.
Andrew shut his eyes and surrendered to her touch. Everything in his mind emptied as he thought only of this woman and her mouth on him. Of her soft mewls of pleasure as she brought him pleasure.
He looked down to see that she too, had shut her eyes and was working his cock with abandon and utter pleasure. She liked performing this act, and with a little practice, she would be a master at it. Already he was at the edge of coming.
But he didn’t want to do that. Not until he had taken her. Proven to her that he wanted her, that she had never disappointed him.
He caught her shoulders and lifted her, dragging her away from his cock. She made a moan of displeasure.
“Was I doing it wrong?” she asked, eyes sparkling as he stared at her, panting and trying everything in his power to keep from exploding right then and there.
“No,” he said, his tone taut with tension. “But if I do not have you now, I will regret it.”
He tugged at her ugly dress, pulling the fabric without thought to any damage he might do. She needed new gowns at any rate and the idea of tearing this one to shreds to get to her body was suddenly a very appealing one.
She gasped as a few buttons popped away, a sleeve made a rending sound at the seams. But she didn’t protest as he shoved her gown around her waist and lowered his head to her exposed breasts.
Lysandra didn’t know how this quick reversal had occurred. One moment she had been putting her lessons from earlier in the day to good use. She liked taking Andrew into her mouth, for it was obvious that the act gave him great pleasure. More surprising was how much it aroused her. Giving pleasure was almost as intense as receiving it.
But now, as Andrew sucked her nipples with a pressure that stayed just on the correct side of the pleasure-pain border, her back arched and her mind emptied. It was amazing how this touch, so far away from her sex, could make her body tingle and her legs shake as she teetered on the edge of orgasm.
He tugged her dress to the floor and then lifted her, wrapping her legs around his back as he strode across the room, kissing her with each step. She suddenly found her back against the chamber door.
She gasped as he lifted his hips and speared her with his cock in one slick stroke.
“Already ready for me,” he growled as he nuzzled her throat. “Just as I like it.”
He thrust and pressed her against the door even harder, closing any bit of distance between them. Lysandra gasped of the sensation of being so filled, so possessed. There was no space between them, no air between them beyond the breath they shared. Her face was even with his and their eyes met. For a moment he stopped moving and just stared at her, almost as if he was seeing her for the first time.
He tilted his head and kissed her, but there was little harsh possession in the kiss. This was gentle, like a bride’s first kiss. He brushed his lips butterfly-wing soft and then let his thrusts join that gentle touch. He moved slowly within her, cupping her hips gently, holding her steady as he slipped within her hot sheath.
The pleasure of his touch, of the intimacy of his kiss, built suddenly, rapidly and burst within her body without warning. Lysandra arched against the door with a strangled cry that no doubt made its way to the hallway and the ears of the servants, but at the moment she couldn’t care about that. Her body was out of her control, jolting with pleasure that seemed to start at her core and spread outward with warm fingers, making every part of her ache deliciously.
And Andrew gave her no respite from the sensations. He continued to drive into her body, his thrusts once again increasing in intensity. Lysandra thought of the major’s face earlier in the day when he had come. How lost to sensation he had looked. She stared at Andrew, his eyes squeezed shut, his face taut with tension and pleasure and saw that he too, was as tangled in desire as she was.
She cupped his cheeks and kissed him, driving her tongue into his mouth as another burst of orgasmic bliss made her hips jerk out of control.
Andrew cried out against her lips and
set her down, steadying her even as he withdrew and his hot seed splashed between their bodies. He rested his forehead against hers, their bodies flush, and they stood there for a long series of moments.
Their breathing matched and merged and Lysandra let out a long sigh of pleasure. This closeness…she had never felt anything like it. There was a warmth between them that rivaled the pleasure of release.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and smiled. “Oh, Andrew—” she began.
But she got no further, for Andrew jerked from her embrace and spun away from her, taking his warmth, taking her happy feelings with little more than a backward glance.
Chapter Twelve
Andrew snatched his trousers and walked across the room to the fire where he began to put them on. He could feel Lysandra staring at him from across the room, and her hurt was palpable. He had, once again, pulled away from her.
But he had no choice. That moment against the door was supposed to have been one of pure sex, passion. It had become something else. There had been a connection between them. And he could scarce afford to make that connection.
More to the point, he didn’t want to.
He finished buttoning his pants and turned to find Lysandra collecting her dress from the wrinkled pile on the floor. She held it as a shield in front of her as she examined the torn arm and the missing buttons.
“I shall mend this,” she said, more to herself than to him.
He stepped forward with a shake of his head. “Don’t bother, Lysandra.”
Her gaze jerked to his, and she parted her lips. With her hair mussed and her face red, the action was utterly sensual. God damn, but he wanted to put her back against the door again and have her a second time. And they had scarcely been parted for five minutes.
What was wrong with him? He hadn’t felt this kind of an urge to rut with a woman since he was a young man first discovering pleasure. That was supposed to be Lysandra’s role, not his.
An Introduction to Pleasure: Mistress Matchmaker, Book 1 Page 9
