The Tempestuous Debutante: Book 4 in the Cotillion Ball Series (Crimson Romance)

by Lower, Becky

  He met her as she turned from tying the horse to the hitching post and wrapped her in his arms. The kiss began tenderly, as Parr still couldn’t believe his good fortune. Jasmine gave back every inch of the kiss, eagerly accepting his tongue, and exploring his mouth as well. Without breaking the kiss, they stumbled into the stable, offering them some form of privacy from the outside world.

  Their kisses soon became scorching hot, as each gave in to the passion too long denied. Parr kissed her closed eyes, her lips again, her neck, sucked the lobe of her ear. Her lavender scent, mixing with the smells of the stable, was as intoxicating to him as any liquor. In return, she kissed his jaw, ran her hands through his jet-black hair, and over his chest.

  Parr backed Jasmine up against a wall, and they began to explore each other’s bodies. His hands cupped her breasts, feeling their weight in his palms. She ran her hands around his backside and drew him closer to her. His hard shaft bumped up against her core, eliciting a moan of delight from her. He began a rhythmic pumping motion against her, making her catch her breath. He continued to rain kisses on her face, her neck, and the bare skin he uncovered as he began to open her blouse. His mouth was dangerously near her breast when he came up for air and backed away a step.

  Her glazed eyes stared up at him. “What is it, Parr?”

  “If you want to be a virgin on your wedding night, we need to stop now. Otherwise, I’ll not be able to.”

  Jasmine smiled up at him. A wicked, saucy smile, he thought.

  “Considering you were conceived in a stable, I think it only fair that Parr the Second be conceived in the same way.”

  Parr gulped, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. “Are you suggesting we make love for the very first time in a barn?”

  She nodded, and began to draw him with her into an empty stall. “I want to be one of the girls you tumble in the barn, on a bed of hay. I’ve been jealous since the day you made me aware that there had been others.”

  “You are a woman after me own heart, muirnin.” He laughed as he began to kiss her once again.

  Parr grabbed one of the horse’s blankets to lay on top of the straw, and then leaned down to remove Jasmine’s boots. As he gently tugged each boot off, he stopped and kissed the arch of her foot. She moaned slightly. He slid his hand up under her fine wool skirt and several petticoats. The inside of her thighs was as soft and delicate as a rose petal. He pulled the skirt and petticoats off her and all that was left was her necessaries. He cupped her center and delighted in her gasp as she bucked off the blanket to meet his hand.

  He continued to explore her, unbuttoning the remainder of her blouse and tossing it aside. Her chemise was sheer, and his breath caught when he spied her pale pink nipples through the cloth. He took a nipple, and the cloth, in his mouth and tugged on her breast. She moaned his name. Nothing could ever compare to that moment, when she called out his name in the throes of passion.

  She was frantically undressing him, too. His shirt was peeled off and went flying through the air. Her hands ran over his light dusting of chest hairs, following the trail of growth down to where his hard, throbbing cock waited for her. She touched it through the cloth of his trousers first, then began to unbutton him. As his manhood sprang free from its confines, Jasmine wrapped her hand around it.

  Parr lost his breath in a whoosh. Reluctantly, he removed her hand. “My love, if you keep touching me there, I will erupt all over you instead of giving you the pleasure you deserve.”

  “Well, then, get on with it.” She grinned up at him.

  “Your wish is my command,” he replied. He moved his hands away from her breasts and pulled down her drawers, exposing her soft dark curls to view for the first time. The sight took his breath away. He brushed his hand lightly over them, pleased at her sharp intake of breath. His fingers found her clitoris, and he fondled it slowly, eliciting moans of excitement from her. One finger went inside her tight, wet vagina and he grinned as she rose off the blanket to meet his hand. She was as explosive a lover as he imagined her to be. As he began to move his finger in and out of her, she met his rhythm each time. He slid a second finger in as his thumb continued to massage her. She gazed at him through lust-filled eyes as she gasped and called his name.

  “Let yourself go, my sweet cailín,” he whispered to her as she followed his bidding and tumbled over the edge of orgasm for the very first time. Her eyes clouded over as her body pulsed. Her contractions wrapped themselves around the fingers he had in her, and he nearly came himself. He was the first one to create these sensations in her. His heart swelled at the thought, as he listened to her breathing slowly regain its normal pace. He removed his fingers, and brushed his hand over her curls once again before bringing it up to her cheek as he drew her in for a long kiss.

  “Oh, Parr, that was the most beautiful experience of my life.” She brushed happy tears from her eyes.

  “And we’ve only just begun. But this next part might hurt you a wee bit for the first time. I’ll try to make it as painless as I can.”

  He again began to massage her clitoris as she ran her hands up and down his shaft. Their moans became as one. When he sensed she was ready for him, he entered her, but just barely. He waited until her body accepted him, and gazed down at her, wanting to impress this moment in his memory. He pushed a bit more of himself in her, filling her cavity with his hardness. Her eyes registered a momentary flash of pain, and he hastened to pull himself out but then grinned, when she put her hands on his buttocks and encouraged him to take all of her. Together they rocked toward a climax as she wrapped her legs around his back. Sensing she was near to the edge again, he let himself go, finally, and they cried out together.

  As they lay there in the stall, which now smelled of sex as well as hay, Parr ran his hands over Jasmine’s body, not willing to relinquish his hold on her. He could not get enough of the feel of her lovely breasts, round and firm and peaked with excitement. He tugged on a nipple, running the nub of it through his fingers before he leaned over her to take it into his mouth yet again. She moaned as she ran her hands down his chest, and then around to his backside, caressing his buttocks. He had never known such excitement and contentment at the same time.

  She raised herself onto an elbow and turned her lovely face to him. Her hair had come loose from its pins and fell in graceful curls around her face. He reached out and gently tugged on a lock of her hair, pulling her in for yet another kiss.

  “Do you think we managed to get our baby boy started? Because if we need to do this again, I can be persuaded.”

  Parr tucked the lock of her hair behind her ear. “I can keep this up for a good while if you can. It’s been way too long I’ve been wantin’ ya.”

  She took him in her arms and replied, “And likewise. I’ve been trying to push you out of my mind for a long time and we do have a lot to catch up on. I can’t wait for us to be married, so we can make love to each other every night. And maybe during the day, too, since I kind of enjoy being with you in the stable. If our first child turns out to be a girl, we’ll just have to come back and revisit the barn for the second one.”

  “Ah, my saucy one. Who figured you’d be so right for me?”

  “Colleen did, a long time ago. I swear she’s part leprechaun.”

  Parr smiled as he leaned in for another kiss. “Leprechauns and fairies are what I believe in. And now you. But did you come here today for a reason? Other than to make love to me, that is?”

  • • •

  “As a matter of fact, I did,” Jasmine rose off the blanket and the soft hay and began to pull her clothing back together. “It occurred to me that you probably are going to need dance lessons before our wedding, so I came out here today to teach you the waltz.”

  “Ach, but I’m no dancer. If you try to get me to do something other than an Irish jig, I have two left feet.”

  “W
ell, I won’t object to some Irish jig music at our wedding reception, but I also will insist that you join me for a waltz. Come on, put your clothes on.”

  She ran her eyes over Parr’s naked form, lying on the blanket. What was she saying? She didn’t want to cover his magnificent body with clothing. What she wanted was to lie back down with him and start another lovemaking session. To hell with dance lessons. She knelt beside him and he cupped the back of her head, drawing her in for a long, sensuous kiss as the other hand caressed her bare bosom again. Her hands crept, of their own accord, over his springy chest hairs and she followed the line of hair down to his manhood, which was again showing signs of life. She touched it, marveling at its velvety feel, and knowing she could make it as hard as steel by merely running her hand over it.

  “If it’s a dance lesson you’re wanting to teach me, you’d best remove your hand,” he replied as he deepened the kiss.

  Jasmine explored his mouth, but moved her hand away from his shaft and instead plundered it into his heavy, black hair. Her fingers had longed to touch it for months, and now she could, as often as she wanted. He wrapped his legs around her and touched her breasts, pushing aside her open blouse. Heavens. This must be what her mother was talking about when she said her husband made her heart flutter. She was fluttering all over the place, and wanted to do nothing more than lie here beside this man all day.

  Reluctantly, she pulled away from him, but still had a hand on his strong shoulders. “Come on, you Irish devil. Stop tempting me. I need to teach you to waltz.”

  With a heavy, exaggerated sigh, and one more kiss to her breast, Parr rose from the blanket and began to pull his clothing on. “I’ll learn the waltz if you learn how to dance a jig.”

  Jasmine grinned at him. “We’ll have to think of some kind of payment schedule. For each jig I dance with you, I want to be kissed.”

  “Gladly. Let’s learn the jig first then.”

  “And what will you want as payment for each waltz?”

  Parr gave her a wicked grin. “You’ll see, my muirnin, my sweetheart. You’ll see.”

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Jasmine spent several sleepless nights fussing with the details of her wedding gown. She wanted elegance, most definitely, but she also wanted something different from the customary gowns of the day. When the ladies of society got a glimpse of her dress and were made aware that she had designed it, she could become a specialist in wedding gowns and really make a name for herself in the fashion industry. So every detail needed to be carefully thought out, decided upon, and changed at least three times.

  Her gown was to be a one-piece dress, made from a pure white silk satin with a subtle pattern of swirls and filigrees stamped into the cloth. Colleen added seed pearls, cascading down each arm as they followed the swirl patterns of the cloth. The sleeves stopped just below the elbow, and were tied with a wide silk ribbon and trimmed in tulle, which Charles Frederick Worth was experimenting with in France. The cloth of the skirt was gathered into a bustle in the back and fell in graceful folds from her derriere to the floor, forming a small train. The sides of the skirt had an overlay of solid silk satin, and were attached to the skirt with a wide white ribbon, which emphasized the curve of her hips.

  She wanted the back of the gown to be embellished enough to entertain her wedding guests during the ceremony, but the front of the gown was decorated to please her. It was cut in a low V shape, with tulle and seed pearls around the low neckline. Beneath the see-through tulle, the front was gathered in row after tiny row of ruching, which narrowed into a point just above the apex of her thighs. On either side of the ruching, Colleen had worked the silk satin into tiny rosettes, which followed the neckline and ruching, further emphasizing Jasmine’s small waist.

  The boots were a gift from her cobbler, who appreciated the work she had given him over the past few months. They were also white, had a small heel on them, and were above the ankle in height. Big pearls served as buttons, which ran up the sides of the boots.

  But the pièce de résistance was the wedding veil. It was held in place by a crown of orange blossoms, signifying eternal love. The sheer tulle fell to the floor, but was delicate enough to be able to view the back of the dress. The veil puddled out behind her and had been edged in small shamrocks, constructed from green silk. Just enough difference to create a stir. She would carry a bouquet of the same flower as she stepped forward on her father’s arm to meet her Irish lad, her one true love.

  As her mother helped her adjust her veil, she cupped Jasmine’s cheek, as her happy tears fell. “You realize what you’ve done, daughter, don’t you? You may not be marrying Alistair, but you’re still marrying into British aristocracy, even if he was born on the wrong side of the sheets.”

  Jasmine wiped away her mother’s tears. “And you know what’s ironic about it? I really don’t care about a title. All I want is to be known as Parr’s wife. And I will be just that, in a few minutes. Go, take your seat, so we can get on with it.”

  She stopped at the doorway to smile at the gathered crowd, and to imprint this moment forever on her mind. She closed her eyes briefly and inhaled the scent of the lilies, which filled the room. As requested, Heather returned from St. Louis with her parents, along with Basil and Temperance, to attend the ceremony. It was only appropriate that her identical twin take on the role of matron of honor. Her dress was a light brown silk, shot through with strands of pink. Her bridesmaids, Amanda and Colleen, were each dressed in matching gowns of a light pink shade. Jasmine cast an appraising eye over the gowns and declared them to be perfect. Alistair stood beside Parr, acting as best man, while Blake and Basil performed the duties of groomsmen.

  Jasmine took a moment and let her eyes feast on Parr. He was in a grey morning suit with tails, and appeared every inch the fine, titled, gentleman he was. She smiled at him, hoping he’d managed to brush all the hay from his glorious head of hair before he dressed. How had she ever thought she could live without him? He recognized her potential before even she did, and she fell in love with him the moment he picked up on her fear of horses and didn’t laugh at her, but decided to help her overcome it.

  Taking a deep breath, she glanced at her father as the crowd shuffled and rose to its feet.

  “Are you ready, my darling Jasmine?” he asked.

  “I’ve never been more ready for this in my life, Papa. Let’s go.”

  • • •

  Parr and Jasmine took their places in the center of the ballroom for their first dance as husband and wife.

  “Are you ready?” she asked with a smile.

  Parr grinned at her. He hadn’t been able to stop grinning like an oaf all day. Jasmine was truly his now. No more sneaking around in the stable to make love to her, or to steal a kiss from her saucy, full lips when no one was paying attention. He could not believe his good fortune. He took her hand and readied himself for the first strains of the waltz. They glided through the dance without having Parr’s feet fail him, although he did breathe a sigh of relief when the others joined in.

  As the dance floor filled up, he tightened his grasp on Jasmine. She tapped his arm with her fan. “That’s not the proper hold, Parr. Remember our lessons.”

  He dipped his head lower and whispered in her ear. “And remember what came after each lesson.” To add emphasis to his statement, he licked her ear lobe before he straightened up again, eliciting a short gasp from her. She allowed him to continue to hold her tightly.

  She surprised him by taking to the steps of the traditional Irish jig as if she were a native. He suspected she’d gotten some extra lessons from Colleen, although he never once mentioned it to her, nor did she. All around them, folks were dancing, laughing, and having fun. He spied Alistair and Lydia off in a corner, sharing a private moment. They seemed lost in each other, and he nodded his approval of their union. They were well suited, and their wedding
would not be far off, he was certain of it. Alistair didn’t want to take any chances that another man would entice her during the season.

  Parr and Alistair had shared a few long evenings between the fire and today, where Alistair filled him in on what it meant to be the son of a duke and a viscount, both from the standpoint of official duties and from the wealth involved. Alistair’s father was still a vibrant man and would continue to carry the mantle of the official duties for many years, so Alistair and Parr were free to pursue the breeding farm and racetrack. Parr continued to pinch himself. His only regret was that his dear mum was not here to share in his good fortune. But he had no doubts she would have loved Jasmine dearly. She had told him from the time he was a mere lad that he would know his true love the moment he spied her, and she had been so right.

  • • •

  A few days later, Jasmine and Parr took their places for the first dance as the debutante ball got underway, signaling the beginning of the cotillion season of 1857. Although Parr had cursed mightily at the thought of their nightly dance lessons for the week prior to the wedding, he seemed to be having a great time now. He eagerly grasped her around the waist for a waltz.

  “You do know what me payment will be for a night’s dancing with you, don’t you, muirnin?”

  She dipped her head and glanced up at him through her lashes. “I’ll gladly pay your fee, sir. One bout of lovemaking for each dance. I might even ask the orchestra to play one extra tune this evening. I can stay up all night, if you can.”

  He tightened his hold on her, bringing her scandalously close to him. “Ah, me sweetheart, you make me heart beat out of me chest.”

  Jasmine laid her head on his shoulder. “It’s a good thing we’re married now, because we’d be causing all kinds of talk with our dancing so closely together otherwise.”

  Lifting his head and looking around the dance floor, he caught the flutters of fans and whispered conversation behind them. “It looks as if we’re causing talk, anyway. But I know how much you enjoy being the object of their discussions, so I’ll just be holdin’ you tight a bit longer.”