The Master & the Muses

by Amanda McIntyre

  “Just that what, Sara?”

  I saw his reflection in the windowpane as he moved to my side. “I shouldn’t burden you with my troubles.”

  “Posh, Sara. I am the burden here, if anyone.”

  He placed his hands on my shoulders and I leaned my cheek against his hand. “I confess, I am glad you’re here, Thomas.”

  “What can I do, Sara?” He spoke quietly, his thumbs brushing along the nape of my neck. The fresh scent of his soap wrapped around me, offering me an odd sense of familiar comfort.

  I closed my eyes, allowing my shoulders to relax, unaware until now how tense I’d become. Thomas had always had a knack for being able to calm my nerves. “Edward and I…” I was hesitant whether to share my intimate problems with Thomas. Then again, who else knew us as well? “In truth, we did not part on good terms.”

  “It will be well, you’ll see. Absence is a wonderful aphrodisiac.” He traced the slope of my neck. “Women are perfect creatures of passion. There is no need to lie to yourself about that, nor try to keep it from me. Edward is a good man, but when he asked me to come here, I sensed that he was carrying a weight on his shoulders that, frankly, only he would be able to resolve. Unfortunately, in his quest to face his demons, he has ignored your needs, hasn’t he?”

  I felt the tension slide from me as he massaged my shoulders. I could not deny what he said. My efforts in trying to infuse passion into our bed had been met with apathy and frustration, causing greater anxiety in me. I had tasted Edward’s passion and to have it denied without benefit of understanding left me feeling hopeless, yet at the same time wanting. Whether it was wise or not, Thomas’s companionship had filled that void and for whatever reason, I felt my husband knew that when he asked him to stay on at the cottage. Did I dare call his bluff and embark on finding out if I was still capable of passion?

  “You have a way about you, Thomas. I wonder if you realize what you do to women.”

  He chuckled low, wrapped his arms around my waist and tucked his face next to mine.

  “And here I thought I’d lost my charm.”

  My hand found the smooth, muscular hip beneath his trousers. I remembered the sinewy strength of his legs and the prize that I’d once been privy to thrust proudly between his legs.

  I mentally told myself to stop, that no matter what problems Edward and I were having, this wouldn’t solve them.

  “Perhaps Thomas can give you what I cannot right now, Sara.”

  Edward’s words came floating back to me in gentle approval. Perhaps he was right.

  “Oh, Thomas, you’re still a rogue—” I smiled “—but that is what I’ve always liked about you.”

  “I can give you passion, Sara, if that is what you desire.” His breath whispered hot against my temple.

  I felt his hands circle my waist, resting scant inches below my breasts. He nuzzled his face in the warm curve of my neck. It was a simple breach of fidelity, a mindless moment shared between two former lovers—if I were to stop it now. But the delicious sensation was far too enticing. I was aware of my buttons coming undone, my blouse dropping to the floor, a chill rushing over my exposed flesh.

  “You are so exquisite, Sara. How am I expected to keep my hands off you?”

  Thomas cupped my breasts in his hands, easing the white swells upward until my pink nipples peeked over the ribboned edging of my corset. He slid his hand down my throat, dipping inside my corset, pinching and rolling my tender nubs until I ached to have the damn obstruction off me.

  I stood the torment for as long as I could and turned toward him, drawing his face to mine in a furious kiss. His fingers worked at the strings of my corset, a chuckle slipping from his mouth as the knots gave way. He spread the lacings, removing the corset and freeing my breasts. Between kisses, he drew off my blouse and camisole, tossing them aside, his hands quick to return, pushing up my breasts, taking of his carnal feast.

  My palms squeaked against the windowpane as Thomas suckled and taunted each breast. His quiet moans mixed with the heady pleasure consuming me. It had been so long since I’d felt anything like this, since I’d wanted this.

  The juncture of my thighs grew soft and moist. “Thomas,” I sighed. He knew so well how to mold me, to touch me in a way that made it impossible to stop.

  “God, Sara, I want to be buried inside you. Do you remember how fine we were together?”

  I nodded, biting my lip as I fought the guilt that tried to creep into my thoughts.

  “I want to fuck you, Sara. Slow and easy, like it used to be, but you have to want it as much,” he whispered against my cheek.

  “Thomas,” I said softly, brushing my hand over his hair. “It has been so long.”

  He slipped off my drawers and pressed my back to the window, his face inches from mine as his hand slid over my damp curls and between my legs. A glorious moan of pleasure escaped my throat.

  “That’s it, my muse,” he breathed out on a sigh as he pressed his palm over my breast.

  “I cannot.” I swallowed, shaking my head gently. “What about Edward?”

  Thomas took my hand and led me to the settee.

  “Come here, Sara. Sit.” He motioned to his lap and I sat facing away from him. Through the confines of his trousers, his erection pushed unashamedly against my bare bottom.

  “If Edward was here, he would find you as irresistible as I do. He’d want to see you happy, just as I do,” he whispered, kissing the back of my neck. He spread his knees, so, too, moving mine apart, his hands sensuously rubbing my inner thighs.

  “Relax, Sara. I will see to your pleasure. I will make you come as I suspect you have not in too long. You are much too beautiful, too deserving, to go without passion.”

  I succumbed to the magic of his stroke, lying back and closing my eyes, placing his hand over my breast, lost in the utter delight of my body awakening as if after a very long sleep. “If only—” the misty words repeated in my mind “—if only Edward would love me like this.”

  “Sara.” I knew his scent before his mouth covered mine, not allowing me to speak. Through my hooded lids I saw my husband kissing me, his tongue splendidly mating with mine. They were his callused fingers caressing my breasts, his mouth drawing my tips gently between his teeth. All the while, Thomas continued to stroke me, captivating my mind in a euphoric bliss.

  “Thomas…” My words were cut off by another sensuous kiss. Was I dreaming? Had Edward really come back early? Was it because he missed me?

  “You are so lovely,” Edward whispered between intermittent kisses. “I just want to see you happy, Sara. I’ll do anything for you.” His mouth captured mine, erasing all my thoughts, all my fears. In my joy, I threaded my fingers through my husband’s hair, verifying it was him. His lips moved over my body, drawing my hips forward, nibbling on the tender juncture of my thighs.

  A sigh tore from my throat and pure heat coursed like a slow-burning fire through my veins, my hips responding gently with the delight of his tongue.

  “There, my muse, your pleasure is all we want,” Thomas whispered in my ear.

  Thomas’s hands, warm and caressing, slid over my breasts. I pressed into them, engulfed in sensual, ravenous need, taking my fill of what they offered. It was decadent and so unlike my before-now staid husband to partake in such a venture. I lifted my arms over my head and allowed their exquisite worship of my body. I didn’t think about whether it was right or wrong, or what would happen after.

  My breath caught each time Edward’s tongue teased my clit. My body coiled tighter and I heard my sighs echo in the silent room. The warmth of the afternoon sun shone through the windows, illuminating the dark sheen of Edward’s hair against my pale flesh.

  I came in a powerful rush, crying out my husband’s name, “Oh, Edward, sweet Edward.” He rose, capturing my mouth, my juices mingling with his fiery kiss, drawing out the rolling waves of my shuddering climax until I was utterly spent. My body collapsed against Edward’s shoulder and he held me close, st
roking my hair.

  I opened my eyes, the sensual haze dissipating now and the reality of what had happened taking shape in my mind. “I love you,” I whispered against the curve of Edward’s shoulder.

  He gently eased me back and searched my face, swallowing hard, as if he, too, was realizing what had just happened.

  “I—I need to think, Sara…if I am what’s best for you.”

  I grabbed his hand as he turned to leave. “Of course, you are, Edward.”

  He glanced over my shoulder at Thomas and drew my hand to his lips for a soft kiss.

  I jumped from my lover’s lap and ran to the window, watching as my husband climbed into the carriage he hadn’t released yet.

  I turned to meet Thomas’s unflappable gaze.

  “You love him,” he stated, closing his eyes. A smile lifted the corner of his mouth. “He loves you, Sara. He just needs to sort things out.” He rose and handed me my dress. “If you’ll excuse me, I think I will go pack my things. For once, I’m not going to think about what’s best for me.”

  He leaned forward and kissed the back of my head.

  “Be happy, Mrs. Rhys.”

  It was late. I’d chosen not to eat supper; I had no appetite. Instead, I’d taken a long soak in the tub and lain down, hoping to find the answers that would not come to me. Now I sat at my vanity in my robe, brushing my hair as was part of my nightly routine. The soft glow of the kerosene lamp cast odd shadows on the wall, amplifying the loneliness I felt inside. Would Edward return? God, I prayed that he would. We had so much to talk about, so much of our marriage yet to be lived, and with the same passion he’d shown this afternoon, if he so desired.

  Even now my body tingled at the heat in his eyes as he knelt before me, his hands holding my thighs, preventing me from escaping. It had been, without a doubt, a profound experience to have the freedom of such undivided attention and yet, it was knowing that Edward was aroused by me, that he was willing to do whatever it took to please me, that brought me over the edge.

  The sound of the door opening caused me to look up. Edward’s eyes met mine in the reflection of the mirror. I held my brush suspended in midair as I waited for him to speak.

  “I’ve missed you in a most desperate way,” he whispered, drawing the brush from my hand and dropping it to the floor.

  I stood, bending over to pick up the brush, and felt his hands come around my waist. His hands slid beneath my robe, over my thighs, as he gently nudged me forward. The fire in his eyes was all I needed, as I leaned on the vanity and welcomed him inside me. He filled me to the hilt with his glorious length, bringing me to my toes.

  “Open your eyes, Sara,” he said softly. “Look at me.”

  My fingers dug into the edge of the table as my eyes rose to his. My breasts, showing through the gap of my robe, swayed with each slow, methodical thrust and my core tightened in a furious spiral. I teetered on the delicate edge of release, my gaze holding to his to be sure that I was not dreaming. This was Edward, needing me, desiring me. My body clenched in glorious release around him as he followed with a guttural sound, matching the pleasure of my sigh.

  He drew me up, the warmth of his body shielding my back as we looked at each other in the mirror. “I do not want to live my life without you, Sara.” He kissed the crown of my head. “I don’t know how to make up for all that I’ve put you through.”

  I turned into his embrace, pressing my cheek against his broad chest. “I just wanted back the man who seduced me that day in the studio,” I said. “I needed to feel that you still desire me, Edward.”

  “More than you know, my love. All the while I was away, every night you invaded my dreams. Everything I saw, everything I experienced—I thought about what you would think. I yearned to have you at my side, sharing every moment with me. That is why I came back—” he brushed his hand over my hair “—to tell you that I am miserable without you.”

  He leaned away from me, holding me at arm’s length. “But I want you to be happy, Sara. And I meant what I said earlier. In some cultures, it is permitted to have more than one lover. I can learn to live with that, if it is what you want, but I think part of me had to know whether you were mine entirely, or if you still harbored feelings for Thomas. I didn’t realize until I left that it was likely a big part of why I invited him to stay here.” He searched my eyes. “I was aware of the risk involved, but I had to leave so that you would be able to decide for yourself what you needed, what you wanted.”

  I held my hand to his cheek, feeling the familiar roughness of his unshaven face beneath my palm. “I will always have affection for Thomas, Edward. However, not in the same way I have for you. Thomas only loved me with his body—it is all he knows, at least for now. But I hope one day he will feel what I feel for you—something built to last, to weather the storms that will come. You, Edward, have my heart, my soul and my body, if you so desire it.”

  “I’ve missed you so much,” he breathed against my neck, his fingers slowly drawing my robe from my shoulders. His warm lips touched my flesh as he eased the gown over my arms and let it pool at my feet.

  “You are so soft…so beautiful.”

  He nuzzled my ear, drawing my hair aside to place tender kisses across the back of my neck. Languid curls of dark desire began to form deep inside me. I turned in his arms, my hands working fast to undo the buttons of his shirt, peeling it back to smooth my fingers over his warm skin. I pressed my lips to his flesh, finding where his pulse beat fiercely at the base of his neck. Impatient to have him inside me, I struggled with his trousers as his hands moved over me.

  “My sweet Sara,” he said, lifting me into his arms and carrying me the short distance to the bed. He laid me down and I watched him make haste to finish undressing, his beautiful body emerging and setting fire to my blood. He lay down beside me and I drew him close, delighting in having my husband home again, in my bed where he belonged. “I’ve missed seeing how you used to look at me. I didn’t realize how much,” I said softly, slipping an unruly curl over his ear.

  He kissed me slowly, fanning the need inside of me so long denied. I surrendered to the mastery of his hands and parted my legs, welcoming him, breathing in deeply as he filled me until our bodies fused as one.

  He held my eyes with his stormy gaze, leaning above me on his elbows and rocking his hips, moving in a sensuous rhythm and building me up again. Tears pricked the backs of my eyes as I clamped my legs around him, gripping his back, feeling his muscles bunch beneath my fingers.

  “Come—with me—Sara,” he said, his words broken by his fervent thrusts. I rose to meet him in perfect rhythm. Thomas had been right—people did lose sight of the beauty created by the union of a man and a woman. My world began to spiral out of control as another climax shattered me apart. I clung to Edward’s body, drenched with the heat of arousal as he followed with a primal groan, reclaiming all that was his—all that was ours.

  Breathless, he rolled to his back and stared a moment at the mirror I’d insisted he hang above the bed. He drew me under his arm, his hand skimming tenderly over my heated flesh. There was no need for words. As I drifted to sleep, I felt him lean over and kiss my temple.

  “Sleep well, my love—” he leaned over to kiss me “—we’ve only just begun to catch up.”

  The muffled clip-clop of horses coming up the hard dirt drive woke me. My body was sore from being awakened in the middle of the night for another round of lovemaking that drove us into a near frenzy and disheveled the bed linens until they hung off the corner of the mattress. Careful not to wake Edward, I scooted off the bed and wrapped a sheet around me. It was early yet, the sky barely showing signs of daybreak. I pushed my hair back from my face and looked to the entrance below, seeing Thomas handing his bags to the coachman. No longer did I feel disconnected, heart and body, as before. Both were now devoted entirely to Edward, and I knew he was mutually devoted to me.

  Thomas opened the carriage door and I saw a woman, dressed in fine clothes. Grace. I w
ondered if she would ever admit how deeply she felt for him.

  “Sara?” my husband called out sleepily.

  “Over here,” I replied, smiling as he swaggered hurriedly toward me in the frigid room. He peeled the sheet from around me and moved in behind me, wrapping us both snugly inside.

  “Why are you up? You ought to still be in bed on such a chilly morning.” He bent to kiss my cheek.

  “He’s leaving,” I said, pressing my hand against the cold glass. Edward rested his chin on the top of my head and, covering my hand with his, drew it back beneath the sheeting and enveloped me in his tight embrace.

  “Let’s go back to bed, my love,” he whispered in my ear. “I have much I want to share with you that I learned while in India.” He nuzzled my ear and I turned into his arms, finding there all the adventure I’d ever need.

  Book 3

  GRACE

  Chapter 1

  Cremorne Gardens, 1858

  IT WAS A BEAUTIFUL SUMMER EVENING AT THE Cremorne. Most of my usual clients were at the opera, indulging their wives in a night out, showing them off to London society. It is common knowledge, of course, that most of them keep at least one mistress. And, I think for some, their wives approve if only to keep from having to perform themselves. I suppose you could say I may have held more marriages together than been reason for their end. Tonight, however, I was free to spend an evening of leisure, enjoying the music, the lights and the festive gaiety of the gardens. Here I could lose myself. I could forget the small room above the pub where I had lived for the past ten years since escaping from hell.

  To look at me now you would not see, unless you were very astute, the horror of what I’ve been through. I was just twelve when I was ripped from my family’s bosom, kidnapped by a brothel madam’s thugs while at market with my mother. There are times I can still hear her screaming my name, the burlap sack over my head unable to drown out the sound. I was told that I was to be sold to the highest bidder in a private auction. I was not to make a scene, for no one would come for me. It would be easy to end the life of someone whose whereabouts no one knew.