by Thea Devine
How could she give herself to him so easily?
Because she must, to do what she must do ...
Her Lord and Master / 171
What was it she must do?
She pressed in tighter against his mouth, canting her body slightly outward to invite his caresses, even though she knew there was no gentleness in Wick, and this erotic persuasion was meant solely as a way to prepare her for—for—
She gasped—she tried to wriggle away from him, but there was no escaping the incursion of his most expert fingers in her buttocks crease, and then, hard and demanding, up between her legs, so insistent and compelling all she could do was helplessly spread her thighs to ease his way.
She was so tight, his fingers were so demanding, probing and pressing against her tight virgin cunt, stroking, seeking... and suddenly, pushing with emphatic possession, into her hot, honeyed core.
Her body jolted in dismay—and something else—
Revulsion? Fear? Acceptance? Need? Want? What she must do— The sensations warred within her. Push him away, pull him in tighter. This was such a jolting invasion, she felt faint; this was so familiar, it seemed as if she had been waiting her whole life to feel him there.
He pulled slowly away from her lips. "Do not tempt me so, Chaste. I am but a man, and how can a man resist what awaits him..." he pushed his fingers more tightly into her "... there."
She couldn't help herself; she was leaning tightly against him now; they all could see his fingers embedded in her cunt from the obverse position. They could see her expression, part terror, part astonishment at experiencing something so intense, and unexpectedly pleasurable, and so new.
Not so new ... she had been waiting for this, she had been born for this one moment of hard male possession. . . .
He took another dollop of cream and licked it from the spoon. "Your turn to taste me, Chaste. Come ..." He rimmed his lips with his cream-coated tongue, while he pulsed his fingers inside her, and bent her to his will.
She leaned down and licked and lapped the cream from his tongue, and he played with her, dueling with her, sucking her,
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and fucking her with his fingers ... and ail she could do was thrust against those long, insatiable fingers, pushing them deeper and tighter, until she was swallowed by his voracious mouth, and the swoon of sensation spiraling between her legs.
He felt the gush of her come, and he eased himself away from her mouth, while he held her tightly to him with his fingers still possessing pushed tight and deep within her. "My dear Ellingham, you were so right; there is nothing to compare with such hot, willing virgin flesh."
He maneuvered his fingers from her body then, and immediately she felt empty, cold, filled with longing to be fingered again. "Chaste, you are a revelation. Your virgin kisses, your tight virgin cunt, your willing body ... For me to have such a choice virgin—indescribable—and yet we have not sampled all my beauties have to offer. Come, Virtuosa, your name says it all. I can't wait to feel you lick the cream from my tongue."
And Virtuosa came and ate him voraciously, and let him feel and fondle her womanflesh until she, too, surrendered to his expert handling.
Make them compete, Jenise thought furiously. Make them outdo each other in what they would accept, what they would allow. It was positively Machiavellian—and yet, and yet—the seed of jealousy was planted now and was growing exponentially as she tried not to watch Innocenta brazenly lift her dress, and climb onto his lap and just devour his tongue while she directed his hands to her buttocks and cleft.
It was impossible. She was fascinated. And she could see so clearly that he liked exactly what Innocenta was doing. "What man would not like a woman throwing her naked self onto him and showing him what she wanted?
This was the way. Or was it? Was it? Innocenta pumping
herself up and down against his groin. Was that what he
wanted? Innocenta, noisy in her appreciation of his kisses, his
questing fingers, his hot, clothed body in contrast to her naked
ness, her eager, avid mouth all over his. Was this a lesson for
the chaste, the virtuous?
Her Lord and Master / 173
Had they come this far to lose already to a woman who was too well-versed in the ways of a man's sex?
And Ellingham, savoring his berries and cream, lounging his chair, leering at everything, leaning forward now and again to get a better glimpse of Innocenta's heaving breasts and naked thighs.
"God, what a show ..." he breathed as Wick finally pulled away from Innocenta's wild mouth. "It begs the question what our darling Innocenta really does behind closed doors. She knows too much. Not so innocent, our Innocenta. Take her, Wick. If she knows enough to get naked for you, you just spread those creamy thighs and poke that hot hole and give her what she's begging for."
Wick grasped Innocenta's arms and eased her away. "Not... yet. A lovely thought, mind you, nesting in your blowhole, but—not yet." He got her off of his lap and back to her chair. "It would spoil everything to tuck and fuck the first night. I'm only living up to your lesson, my dear Ellingham," he said to his friend as Ellingham was about to protest. "You drummed it into me often enough: hold your butter, hold your cream, and ere I see the benefit of doing so, you want me to spend it inconsequentially? No, this I will not do. No, I when I blow— it will be volcanic. You will want to bear witness, my dear Ellingham. It will be—a sight to behold, a wonder of the world. It will be the reward for my patience and prudence in this erotic process of choosing a mate.
"And now we've begun, now that I see the benefit of hoarding and abstinence—I need to see more of my beauties. I need them naked, Ellingham. Naked, and all mine to probe and prod and do with as I will. Tomorrow." There was a promise in his voice that none of them could possibly miss. "Tell Mrs. Wilton. She knows what to do."
******************
She knows what to do ...
Was there ever a debaucher like this? His object of desire could not even have the cold comfort of knowing his own
174 / Thea Devine
house was sacrosanct. But no, even here, he had the willing complicity of the sour-faced housekeeper in his depravity.
That alone should tear the blinders from her eyes.
Had she not learned the harshest of lessons here today? That seduction was seductive in its own right, and so enticing and entrancing that no one, no woman, no matter how determined, how innocent, how righteous, was immune to its pleasures?
Not even her ...
Especially her.
And then there was Innocenta, strutting and preening, taunting her and Virtuosa as Ellingham escorted them to their bedrooms. "He likes me the best. He can only choose me. I can't wait for tomorrow when I can offer myself completely naked to him. He will not want another ..."
"Oh, be quiet," Virtuosa snapped. "It is not as if you were Aphrodite herself. Your breasts are small and mangy, and your nipples soft and spongy. What man wants to suck a calf's breasts? A man likes big bosomy women, like myself. With wide hips that can carry the child he will surely get on me the day that he takes me as his wife."
"And yet, he spent so much time suckling me. So much time fondling my body as I sat on his lap. Did he take you on his lap? Did you feel that monster between his legs? No, I didn't think so."
"Oh, did he only seat you on his lap?" Virtuosa asked pro-vokingly. "Well. He showed himself to me. Let me slide my hand all over his l^rd shaft. Innocenta, I tell you—he was so hot for me, he was ike iron; wanted to show me what I had to look forward to. Apologized that there wasn't time for me to ... have something to eat...."
"Liar," Innocenta interrupted heatedly. "You're lying. He didn't show himself ... he didn't invite you to eat... he did not...!"
"And what about sweet, silent, chocolate-wouldn't-melt-in-her-mouth Chaste?" Virtuosa interrupted her. "What about Miss Shimmy Shammy Virgin who pretends she's never been
Her Lord and Master / 175
touched by a man? What a lie. Did you see the way she enticed him? Did you see how her cunt swallowed his fingers? Someone else has plowed that furrow before today. She knew just what to do when he penetrated her. And that kiss. Oh, our Chaste has been kissed before, I can guarantee you that. And not in the cloakroom either. This one is deep, thinking to outwit us with her maidenly airs and her coy, virginal ways. Thinking if she is not brash and bold, if she is submissive and pliable, she will captivate him where we cannot."
"I think not, Virtuosa. I think now we understand her plan, we can circumvent her. I would rather one of us win his hand than her. I would rather it be me. It will be me. I am set on it."
"And I am determined it will be me," Virtuosa snapped. "It will be a fight to the death then, Innocenta. Because you will surely die when I win."
"And I will step over your dead body on my way to the altar," Innocenta retorted furiously, pushing Virtuosa. Virtuosa stumbled, and then lurched forward and pushed back. Innocenta went down, Virtuosa dove on top of her, and began pulling her hair and tearing her clothes.
Innocenta fought back, cursing and screaming, and the two of them rolled around the landing like two animals in heat for a good three minutes, while Ellingham watched in utter enjoyment.
"There's nothing like a little cunt fight," he murmured to Jenise. "Those lovely legs, those dirty mouths ... it makes for fine sport. But I must step in—I must—for Wick's sake.... I'd rather watch them tear off their clothes, but we have Wick to consider—"
He stepped into the fray. "Here, ladies—stop—now." He grasped Innocenta's arm and pulled her to a standing position. "Wick would not appreciate a naked body marred by scratches and blood. You must be at your best tomorrow, rested, refreshed, and eager for his caresses. How can that come to pass if you are venting your anger, and your eyes are bloodshot from crying, or worse? You—Innocenta, now—to your room."
176 / Thea Devine
Innocenta threw Virtuosa a venomous glance and stalked off.
"Virtuosa—calmly now, like the lady you are ... Remember, a man likes to play with danger, but he sets up his nursery with a virtuous lady."
Virtuosa nodded, Ellingham relinquished his grasp, and she straightened her shoulders, pulled up her torn dress, and went her way to her room.
"And dear, deep Chaste—what can you be thinking?"
"That my dress is still intact," Jenise retorted. "And my dignity—such as it remains the same even after this night."
"Pack your dignity away, Chaste. There is no place for it here. Only your willingness to give Wick what he wants and let him do anything he desires to your naked body. Nothing will be intact after tomorrow, except for the decision as to whether you will still wish to be his bride. If you survive this trial with your wits intact. And if, in the end, you are even the one he would choose."
******************
So there it was. He would choose one. And the eager, worldly Innocenta was the most likely of the three.
How could she compete with Innocenta? Innocenta's breasts were perfectly fine—small round globes with hard pointed nipples that were eminently suckable. And her body knew the secrets of a man's touch, her avid mouth the nuances of a man's kiss.
And Virtuosa—with a body as round and shapely as a brood mare—wj^ Wick envisioning his putative heir at her ample breast? Pernaps that was all he really cared about, and the rest of this elaborate plot to choose a wife was just a game to debauch a trio of virgins.
If indeed Innocenta were a virgin. Or Virtuosa, for that matter.
What did she, aptly named Chaste, have to offer him?
Her innocence? Her wit? Her virginity?
What would a man like Wick treasure the most?
Not privacy. Not if he were pursuing his pleasures here.
Her Lord and Master / 177
Not family. Not honor. Not—anything?
She had nothing to compete with. And now she had an inkling of the pleasures of her body, she was more vulnerable even than Julia. And the thought of Julia, and how he must have played with her, did not provide her with any consolation. Or any ideas. Especially after how easily she had welcomed his encroaching caresses.
The fault for that was within her. The submerged and fatal flaw.
She was one of those women, a soiled dove in the making, destined to become a mistress of lustful wealthy men after Wick got through with her—or she with him.
She liked it too much, what he had done to her. And that was wholly irrespective of her desire to defeat him. She liked it. She wanted more.
Dear heaven, more—the more of which she could not conceive except in a hazy kind of way, but the more of which Innocenta and Virtuosa no doubt had vast experience.
Innocenta would win any contest in which sensuality was the test; she was certain of that now. Innocenta knew all the secrets of men. And Innocenta was determined.
No, she amended that thought, they all were determined, but in entirely different ways. Interesting. Because Innocenta and Virtuosa would use their obvious sensual knowledge to try to captivate him. Whereas she knew so little about that, it was almost a joke that Ellingham had even chosen her to be among the chosen; and while she might be willing, she was not experienced enough to initiate anything.
Yet.
That was important, she thought, but she didn't quite perceive how.
But witness how Innocenta had brazenly climbed on his lap, and how even though Ellingham encouraged Wick to fuck her, he had declined to do so, even with her legs spread so enticingly. He had said no. And he had come back so soon after she went into the library for the first meeting with him.
What didn't he do or say to Innocenta?
178 / Thea Devine
Perhaps Innocenta was too eager. Too sure of herself. Too experienced for the mother of the heir-to-be.
And Virtuosa—no—he'd relished her kisses, and he had penetrated her with ease ...
No reluctance there. No shock or dismay at the first feel of a man's fingers invading her most private place.
Hmmm... they were both so intense, so eager, almost frantic in their desire to outdo each other. There was no passion there, only a certain aggressiveness and security in their femininity, their beauty, and in whatever experience and knowledge they possessed.
And they—and she—were the best of all the eligibles on the marriage mart? Or was it that they were game, not insipid, and had some backbone?
What had Ellingham been thinking? Whatever it was, however it had started, it was now something for real: Wick was committed to it, and as determined as they to get the most out of it. The most out of them. And in the end, his wife and an heir...
So what had she to—
You have to stop looking at them.
The thought flashed through her mind like a comet.
Stop comparing yourself to them.
Remove yourself.
Enjoy yourself.
Don't let him see how much you want it... any of it—
And you do wani it... that's the thing you're resisting.
You yearn fo&t, now that you know how good it feels— and now that you've been so expertly felt and fondled, and penetrated, you want more, you can't wait for more—and that is the most daunting thing: you can't wait to be naked so he'll do more—
So remove yourself. Don't let him see that hot yearning. Be elusive, be willing, be malleable and coy—but just a little removed—and enjoy it, everything he will do to your naked body—let yourself sink into the pleasure ... take everything you can from him ...
Her Lord and Master / 179
Why not? He is the most experienced man in the art of pleasure in the whole of England... Soon enough you'll be gone— And no one will ever know. But the best part will be, you never have to tell...
Chapter five
In the morning, she awakened to find herself lying naked on her bed, with her clothes gone, and nothing in her room to wear except a pair of black heeled booties and a long strip
of black lace, which were laid out at the foot of the bed.
Ellingham barged in a few minutes later. "Oh, excellent. Everything is as it should be. Good morning, Chaste, I trust you slept well. Don't say a word. The day has begun, and you see before you the elements of what Wick requires. You are to fashion an accessory from the length of lace that will set off the part of your body you think is your best feature. You will wear the boots, of course; Wick loves, loves the contrast of the naked body and the fully enveloping booties. And you need to be ready in—oh, twenty minutes. Mrs. Wilton will come for you. I must say, by the way, you are just lovely naked. If Wick doesn't choose you, I want to fuck you. I love a woman with a bushy mound." He exited on that observation, leaving her a little nonplussed.
He would probably tell all of them he wanted to fuck them, she thought mordantly, picking up the piece of lace and considering what to do with it. He probably told all the women he wanted to fuck that he loved a bushy mound.
Even if they didn't have one.
But she did, and it was interesting to her, in this new tack
Her Lord and Master / 181
she had decided to take, that such a thing provoked a man. Perhaps she should emphasize it, just to play with him. And to see if Wick was of the same mind.
Some ten minutes later, after she had washed and devised her focal point, there was another knock at the door—a maid, bearing a cup of morning chocolate, averting her eyes from Jenise's blatantly naked body. And some minutes after that, Mrs. Wilton came in.
"Stand up, my lady," she commanded sharply. "Let me see what you've done."
Jenise climbed out of the bed. "Will he approve?" she asked
insolently, turning so that Mrs. Wilton could see the circlet she
had fashioned which she'd tied around one thigh, and from
which the delicate ends of a bow caressed her leg and her
bush.
