by Fiona Miers
Lizzie didn’t dare look away. His blue gaze watched her with such intensity she was afraid he’d stop if she dared to close her eyes.
A moan fell from her lips; he thrust in again harder. He was moving slowly, controlling each thrust, angling her hips to rouse her body.
Lizzie was dying, she had to be. Nothing had ever felt so right. She could feel the pleasure in every part of her body. Her hands burned, her toes were curling and that place between her thighs which he was pleasuring, that was alight.
Lizzie started screaming. It was too intense. She wouldn’t survive this. She tilted her pelvis to meet his, to try to take him in deeper.
Rupert groaned against her, pounding harder.
The tension within her belly wound as tight as a spring. Rupert was pushing her higher and higher up an unknown hill. Then he thrust once more and she fell. Off that hidden cliff, into an abyss that caused her body to spasm and convulse and the greatest pleasure she had ever known washed over her.
Rupert gripped her hard and bellowed in pleasure as he pulled out of her body and shook in her arms. He turned so that his back was against the stall door and slid to the floor.
They landed with a light thump and Lizzie couldn’t help the giggle that escaped her. Rupert looked Herculean strong and he had proved that he was today and yet at this precise moment, he looked as happy and vulnerable as a child.
Chapter 9.
Rupert forced his eyes to open and took in Lizzie’s happy, flushed and shining face.
Unable to resist, he kissed her long and deep, feeling himself stir beneath her bottom. Lizzie pulled back and her expression changed. Her previously ecstatic eyes had widened and a new smile had replaced the old.
Could he want her again? So soon after being sated? Impossible! She wiggled her bottom, and his flesh twitched and began to stiffen beneath her. A deep groan escaped his throat as blood began to pulse through him.
Lizzie unwound her beautiful legs from around his waist and placed her knees on either side of his thighs. The heat of her skin and the intense look in her eyes made him grab her hips tight. She rocked her pelvis back and forth, her still moist body caressing him in slow, agonizing strokes.
Her moan was soft, ending in a gasp that hit him right in the gut. He was rising to meet her and when Lizzie angled herself so that he was rubbing over her lips, Rupert threw his head back against the wall. Lizzie closed her eyes and began to raise herself up, until his cock was cold and needy, then slowly impaled herself on him.
It was agony. A beautiful, sweet, torturing agony. The longer he watched her face, twisting in bliss, the more he couldn’t believe what was happening. He had only just experienced the most mind numbing sex of his life and now, only moments later, it was happening again.
Lizzie’s eyes flew open as she moved up and down on him, riding him as one would a horse. He’d never experienced anything like it. She threw her arms around his shoulders and pulled his head towards hers for a kiss.
The kiss ignited between them like port thrown on fire. Tongues mating, parrying and thrusting as their bodies moved in unison. Rupert could sit there, not moving any longer. He gripped her hips and started moving her on him. Up and down, faster and faster. He could hear her breath hitching and soft moans of pleasure erupting from her throat. Keeping the rhythm going with one hand, he reached between them with the other and pulled up her skirts. Crisp curls and slick flesh met his searching fingers, and he rubbed the area above their joining. Lizzie cried out and arched her back, pushing herself down onto his hand as she rode him harder and harder.
The amazing rush to orgasm began to tingle in the backs of his thighs, the heat rushing up his back. Determined not to finish without her, Rupert flicked his thumb over her, faster even as he pumped his hips to make her move along with him. It was an awkward rhythm to maintain, but he refused to leave her wanting.
Lizzie’s gasps got louder and louder until her breathing hitched and her channel began convulsing all around him, begging him to join her. He moved faster and let the orgasm steal over him, his head exploding in a shower of light as heat poured through him.
Damn! Quick!
He pulled out from the slick heat of her body, his seed pulsing between them, over her skin and turning his legs to jelly.
Even as his orgasm was still rippling through his nerves, he marvelled at the fact he had barely removed himself from her body before it had been too late. He had always controlled his orgasm.
When he had begun, he’d asked one of the woman at the whore house about preventing bastards. She had laughed at him but had taught him to pull out before he released his seed. He was usually excellent at getting a full measure of pleasure whilst still having control over where he spilled himself. He had never pulled out so late before.
Thanks to the position they’d chosen, she’d surely be covered in his essence. Cringing, he wrapped his arms around her and planted a kiss on top of her head where she’d collapsed against his chest.
She didn’t stir.
“Lizzie?” He whispered, but he was only answered by her soft, even breathing.
Rupert let his head fall back against the stall door and held her tighter in his arms. It was so good to hold her like this. He had never spent the night with a woman before, even with his permanent mistress. He always preferred to go home to sleep in his own bed. The intimacy of sleeping together was always a step further than what he wanted to share with any of his women.
With Lizzie, though, he had the sinking feeling that if they were anywhere near his home, he would carry her to his bed, curl around her and fall fast asleep.
The thought had him moving. Old habits die hard and real fear never really died.
Rupert lifted Lizzie gently off him and laid her down on the straw. He stood up on shaky legs and buttoned up his breeches with fumbling fingers. Two out of the four button holes were ripped, so he pulled his waistcoat down and buttoned his jacket to cover the damage.
Lizzie’s beautiful sleeping face made his chest ache. Could he really have a good marriage like his friends had? Is this how it had begun for them too? Strange feelings of tenderness with a person you had just met? Of everything being right with the world, despite it all being new?
He righted Lizzie’s bodice again, regretfully tucking her perfect breast away. Lifting Lizzie up into his arms, he was amazed again at how light she was. She stirred briefly whilst he carried her towards the house and lifted questioning eyes to his.
“Shh, I’m going to tell them you have a headache and need to lie down. Just close your eyes.” Rupert crooned to her, cowardly grateful that he didn’t have to deal with the aftermath at this moment.
She nodded gently, tucked her head into his neck and fell into a deep sleep.
****
The next day, Lizzie relived every moment of her time with Rupert in the stables. She even found herself running her hand between her legs during her bath, just to see why and how she had felt those moments of pleasure. She found she could, in fact, elicit some feelings, but it was nothing as intense as when Rupert had touched her.
The difference between the moments with Rupert and the bedding she had experienced with her late husband was immense. Her husband would lie between her legs, thrust into her despite her discomfort and leave soon after. It wasn’t degrading or embarrassing as her friends had described it. He had found pleasure in her body and that had been enough.
Now, she knew what her husband must have felt at the end when he would flood her with his seed. That was also different. Rupert had pulled out of her body at the end and spilled himself on her skirts rather than inside of her. She assumed it was to prevent conception, although after being married for a year without any pregnancy’s, Lizzie feared that she was barren. Either way, his actions were thoughtful and showed his caring nature.
He'd gone by the time she had awoken from her nap and in some ways, she'd been glad. She wanted time alone to sort out her feelings and she had to complete the few esta
te matters that had called her to her country estate in the first place.
She would be back in London for a ball the following night and she couldn’t wait until she saw him again.
Rupert sat in his study the following afternoon, drinking his port very slowly. He had been over and over each moment of his encounter with Lizzie in his head and he still couldn’t work out why it had been so different with her, so soul shattering.
He had slept with every type of woman imaginable. Some were sensual and active in their attentions. Other women preferred a more passive role. Some of the more experienced women had even pleasured him with their mouths and whispered erotic words into his ears.
Nothing in his past had ever caused an orgasm that compared to the two he had experienced the previous day. He had barely touched her, and had been completely dressed, yet the urgency, the pleasure and the passion had been unsurpassed by any other encounter.
Why? He wanted to know. Was it the lack of bedding in the previous month? And if that was so, why was the second orgasm with Lizzie, moments after the first, just as good? Was it her? It had to be. She was beautiful and had a perfectly shaped body, but it was something more than that. Something in her aroused a passion in him, a response from him that had never been called on before.
Rupert couldn’t wait for their next encounter. He would be in control this time. It would be in Lizzie’s bed where he could kiss and touch her until she screamed. Rupert smiled to himself, seeing in his mind’s eye the tears of joy Lizzie had cried at their initial joining. Which is what they were, he had realised later. At the time, he'd been so horrified that he might have hurt her. Rupert could still feel the ache where his heart had cracked a little.
He sighed and rubbed that part of his chest where he still felt it. Something about this whole tryst was different. He wasn’t sure if he was going to come out on the other side as the same man. He'd never been so obsessed with a woman. Even during those times when he had regular mistresses, he would dally with married women who offered themselves to him. He had never been possessive. With Lizzie in his life, he desired no one else. And the idea of her being with another? He couldn’t even entertain the thought!
Tomorrow he would meet her again and his fate, it seemed, was in the hands of the gods.
****
“What are you doing here, Rupert?” John asked, as he walked into the Somerville ball. Dressed in his best evening clothes, he could barely contain the excitement simmering in his blood. Lizzie was here. He was going to see her again.
Wiping his face of any signs that he was smiling inside, Rupert raised an eyebrow at John.
“Why wouldn’t I be here? There are ladies aplenty.”
John huffed next to him.
“Come, get a drink with me. I think Oliver and Archie are in the card room.”
Rupert looked around the crowded room and found Lizzie in a heartbeat, his gaze going towards her like a homing pigeon.
“If you’ll excuse me, John,” Rupert headed straight into the thick of the crowd. His heart was pounding in his chest as he stepped up to the small group of ladies surrounding Lizzie.
“Mrs. Symmons, may I have the pleasure of this dance?” Rupert bowed to where Lizzie stood, along with Charlotte, Countess of Tother and Sarah, Duchess of Lincoln, the wives of Archie and Oliver.
Lizzie gave him a coy smile and held out her hand.
“Of course, sir,” she answered, not even bothering to look at Sarah and Charlotte’s amazed expressions.
Rupert swung Lizzie into his arms and started waltzing her around the room. It felt so good to have her there in his arms, he had to quell the urge to whisk her straight off to a place where he could have her all to himself.
“Are you wearing your drawers?” Rupert asked Lizzie, mostly to shock her. He certainly succeeded. Her eyes grew round and an involuntary gasp left her open mouth.
Lizzie's eyes narrowed and she opened her mouth, to scold him he was sure. Then she smiled.
“Are you?” she asked, with a flirty flutter of her eyelashes.
Rupert burst out laughing and several gentlemen turned to around to look.
Sobering quickly, embarrassed by the attention, Rupert danced her away from anyone close to them.
“You didn’t answer my question, ma’am,” Rupert scolded.
“Neither did you answer mine, sir,” Lizzie reminded him, with a grin.
Rupert’s cheeks flushed with heat.
“Of course I am,” he answered.
“Well, so am I.” Lizzie returned, giving him an enchanting smile.
“Could you leave them at home next time?” Rupert asked, pushing his luck with her good mood.
“Would you like that?” Lizzie asked, frowning.
“Yes, I would like to know that you are naked beneath your dress, waiting for me and no one else knowing about it,” Rupert confided, smiling as though he was joking. Inside, though, he was shocked at himself for asking. She wouldn’t do such a thing for him. Would she?
“Is that a common request of yours to your mistress?” Lizzie asked, striving for sophisticated nonchalance. Whilst inside her head she was thinking something otherwise. He’d better not!
“I’ve never requested it, no,” Rupert answered slowly. Why would she ask such a thing?
“What’s wrong?” She asked, eyebrows drawing together.
“You aren’t my mistress.” He declared, feeling like he should tell her the difference if she didn’t already know. The word mistress for a woman such as Lizzie didn't suit. It would be degrading.
“Then, what am I?” Lizzie asked, cocking her head
“You’re my lover.” Rupert corrected her, with a grin.
“What’s the difference?”
“Money, mainly,” Rupert admitted, ruefully. Most of his other mistresses had lived in a house he permanently rented in a cheap part of town. Otherwise, they were married or widowed and still received gifts of jewellery and the like.
“I don’t want your money, my lord.”
“What do you want then, Lizzie?” Rupert asked, his mood serious for once.
“You.” She answered quietly.
His heart did a dance in his chest and his throat constricted. He'd never heard any words so sweet. Did she want only him? That had to be a first in his life. No expectations, no needs or requirements?
Rupert finished the waltz with a courtly bow to his beautiful partner and began walking her back to her friends.
“May I escort you home tonight?” He asked politely, pitching his voice not to be heard by other guests standing nearby.
“No,” Lizzie answered with a smile.
Rupert’s smile faltered and he opened his mouth to utter a sentence that would indeed sound like a whine.
“You can meet me there later,” she explained, giving his hand a squeeze and slipping a calling card into his palm. She curtseyed and made her way back to the other ladies.
Rupert watched her go and discreetly slipped the card into his jacket pocket. He made his way to the card room and barely felt his feet touching the floor. He had got everything he had ever wanted. At that moment, he couldn’t have been happier.
Chapter 10.
Lizzie fiddled and bounced in her seat, the whole carriage ride home. She was glad she had asked Rupert to meet her at home. She couldn’t possibly have allowed people see her leave with him. But, she knew that he would have kept her more entertained on the carriage ride home.
She walked up the steps to her front door., Her butler opened the door before she could knock.
“Ma’am,”,” he greeted her, taking her pelisse, hat, and gloves.
He stepped closer and lowered his voice.
“There is a Mister Willoughby in the study, ma’am., Would you like me to show him to the sitting room?” The old butler seemed unsure about what he should do. Lizzie faltered for a moment. This was the same man her father had hired to look after his home years before. As her throat tightened and her cheeks warmed wi
th a blush, she realised that she was embarrassed to admit she had a man visiting her. Well, that had to change.
“No. My chamber. In about fifteen minutes please, Saunders,” Lizzie said, breathlessly.
The old butler kept his expression reserved.
“Of course, ma’am.”
Fifteen minutes later, Lizzie was dressed in her sheerest nightgown, and her hair had been unpinned.
Rupert didn’t knock on the door. He quietly entered the room. He had been pacing the study for at least ten minutes, as restless as a caged animal.
He stopped in his tracks when he saw her, his eyes going wide, then he began undressing.
First his jacket, waistcoat, and cravat, then he pulled off his boots and stockings. He left on his shirt and breeches and started towards her.
Her belly tightened, and her hands trembled as she moved them restlessly in her lap.
He was here. Finally.
“Are you feeling well?” Rupert asked, his brow furrowing in concern.
Lizzie smiled and stood up, walking the few steps that separated them. Her arrogant, big man wanted reassurance. She could see it in his eyes.
“I have been so looking forward to this,” she whispered, standing up from her stool and reaching out for him. She unbuttoned his shirt slowly and pushed the material from his shoulders. It was like unwrapping the best gift she had ever received. She'd never been more excited, not even on her wedding day. Her heart raced and a squeal caught in her chest.
Tonight was going to be spectacular and there was no downside, no risk. Rupert would take care of her.
As the shirt fell away, Lizzie gasped, taking a good few moments to catch her breath. Rupert was naked from the waist up. He had a body that rivalled the ones she had once seen in a pugilist match. Huge shoulders and massive, muscular arms. Did he box for his health?
Lizzie could stand still no longer, running her hands up his arms and over his chest in absolute enthrallment. He had a light covering of almost black hair over golden skin and she had the sudden urge to kiss every inch of his chest. Still too shy to do so, Lizzie contented herself with the warm skin beneath her fingertips and smiled coyly up at the man who was allowing her to caress him in such a brazen style.
