Taming Ivy (The Taming Series Book 1)

by April Moran

  "I don't know how to swim.” Ivy wavered with indecision. The waterfall would be a delicious experience if she dared to try it. That is, should she dare remove her clothes with the sinful temptation Sebastian presented. Such a scandalous thing, swimming naked in the middle of the afternoon. Her heart beat so fast she felt lightheaded.

  "I'll teach you.” Calling out to her, his smile flashed white, but underneath was a current Ivy could not ignore. “Do not make me ask you again, my dear.”

  She made her way back onto the bank, her legs unsteady. Tossing her hat to the side, she removed her hat, skirt and various articles of undergarments until nothing remained except a thin, champagne-hued chemise. It barely reached the tops of her thighs and just skimmed the edge of her breasts, but at least she was covered.

  The last thing she did before walking toward him and into the water, was remove the pins from her hair. The heavy mass tumbled to her shoulders.

  Sebastian was strangely quiet as he slid from the waterfall’s edge. He swam to a spot where the water swirled just above his waist then stopped, waiting for her. Ivy knew her chemise revealed far more than it covered. He could probably see the shadowy vee between her thighs and the dark circles of her nipples through the flimsy bit of silk. As the garment grew damp, it became a second skin on her flesh, molding to her curves, highlighting every asset. It took all she possessed not to cross her arms over her chest. Her intent was to stay to the shallows, but the moment he held out a hand to her, Ivy immediately went to him, into the deeper water.

  "I did not lie when I said I could not swim. I-I am afraid to go any further.” Ivy glanced down, checking her footing in the water. Here, the stream’s bottom consisted of both larger pebbles and sand. She rolled her toes over the round stones, momentarily distracted by their smoothness and lost her balance. Submerged to her shoulders, Ivy floundered in panic until Sebastian lifted her up.

  "Shhh,” he soothed, his arms slipping around her waist. "I won't let anything happen to you.” With the buoyancy of the water, held firmly against him, Ivy bobbed in his embrace, her toes now barely touching the stream bed.

  "You'll teach me?" Her smile was self-conscious, her heart racing madly. “What should I do? Lie back or...?

  Sebastian’s eyes were dark and serious. A lock of his hair fell across his forehead and Ivy reached up to sweep it back for him. "Later,” he said in a hoarse voice just before his mouth swooped down to take hers in a mind drugging kiss.

  He tasted her thoroughly, sweeping the inside of her mouth until Ivy clutched his shoulders to steady herself. Sliding his hands down, Sebastian cupped her bottom, lifting her, holding her against his erection as the kiss blossomed and desire erupted into an inferno of want and need and lust.

  Without warning, he sloshed to the middle of the stream to deposit her on one of the sun-drenched boulders. After being clasped against his body, Ivy’s chemise now clung to her, the silk molding itself until every inch of her was glaringly obvious. But as she settled atop the boulder, Ivy reached for him, beyond shame, beyond self-consciousness. Her hand entwined with his. Bringing it to her mouth, she pressed a kiss to his rough palm.

  Wild hope soared in Sebastian’s eyes. He seemed to steel himself, slowly pushing Ivy back until she had to brace herself on her elbows. A glazed expression washed over his face as he rubbed his thumbs over the hardened peaks of her nipples. He slid his hands down to cup the fullness of each breast in his palms.

  Ivy swallowed a helplessly excited moan, her back arching as she thrust into his touch. Replacing his thumbs with the wet heat of his mouth, Sebastian bent forward, tonguing her nipples with delicious intent, one by one, the smooth friction of silk adding a wicked layer of sensation as he licked and bit her through the cloth.

  When she gasped, he forced her to lie prone on the warm rock, placing a large hand on her stomach in order to hold her flat. Moving his palm to the flesh between her thighs, he found her hot and moist. Agitated and growing restless, Ivy tried capturing his hand.

  "No. Stay like this, love, and do not move. No matter what I do to you, you will stay here. In this position.” A smile emerged in the tone of Sebastian’s words while he stared down at her. "Holy hell, I may keep you here, like this, forever. If only you could see how beautiful you are...”

  Biting her lip, Ivy remained as Sebastian placed her, arms stretching obediently above her head at his murmured directive. With the sun warming her face and the hardness of the stone beneath her, she felt like a pagan offering to the gods. Sacrificial and wanton. Closing her eyes, she was unaware of holding her breath until Sebastian chuckled softly.

  “Breathe, my little love. Otherwise, you will not last through what I have planned for you.” A trembling moan escaped her as he explained in a scandalous whisper, "I'm going to taste you now, Ivy. From one end of your delicious body to the other, I'm going to lick...bite...suck you. I'm going to place my mouth on you. Over you. My tongue inside you. Anywhere I damn well please, for as long as I please. No. Stay as you are. I'll tell you when you shall move. Keep your hands there. Open- open your legs for me, Ivy. Open. Yes, that’s it. If you are a good girl and do as I say, you’ll find the reward well worth it…”

  The words were hot, liquid honey pouring over her, into her, melting any reluctance or embarrassment she possessed. Sebastian pulled her thighs apart when she failed to respond quickly enough in her languid haze, his large fingers shoving the flimsy barricade of the silk chemise up. It clamped against the soft skin of her lower belly as he held her open with the flat of his palms. When she was bared to him, he stared at her for a long moment, as if he could not believe she was his.

  Then he bent and put his mouth upon her.

  A shudder shook Ivy from the top of her head down to her tiniest toe, a muffled sob of amazement escaping on a gasp of air. She almost reached down to grip his hair - to pull him away or drag him closer - she wasn’t sure. A low growl of warning reminded her to keep her hands where they were.

  She melted into him and tried to shrink away at the same time. But Sebastian would not allow a withdrawal. His mouth became a branding iron on her sensitive flesh. Drawing his tongue over and across the slick heat of the soft folds centered every nerve in her body on the spot he possessed with his mouth, all the sensations pooling into a tangle of exquisite pleasure and quivering need.

  Her craving was used as a weapon against her. When she inhaled with delight, he pushed further. When she tightened, legs stiffening, her body coiling, he eased off. He licked and teased her to the point of madness, then moved so he was no longer at her sex but the soft skin of her flat stomach. Ivy moaned in protest, limbs trembling as she receded from the peak he intentionally drove her to. He was prolonging her satisfaction with deliberate intent. He wanted her panting for his touch, trembling for him. If she wished to climax, he required her total surrender.

  Gliding over the curve of her hip, his lips explored the inside of her thigh. He raised one of her legs to trail leisurely kisses down its length, stopping to trace the curves and hollows of her knee before discovering her delicate ankle. Using his tongue, he swept away drops of water, his teeth lightly raking her bones until Ivy flinched whenever his lips touched her.

  Each time she whimpered in frustration, Sebastian chuckled. How difficult it was to remain in the position he placed her! Oh, her hands remained above her head, fingers alternating between gripping the smooth stone of the boulder for support and lacing with themselves to keep from grabbing him, but her entire body undulated for him. Her cries were for him. And the wet, slick honeyed sweetness of her arousal was for him.

  She was completely his.

  Sebastian lowered her leg, only to pick up the other and dive into a new adventure involving her skin. The actions repeated in reverse earned several muttered curses from Ivy. Moving from her ankle, up to her knee, then the inner side of her creamy thigh and back to her center once more, he ignored all of her swearing.

  Again, his mouth fastened on her sweetness.
It would take only seconds to bring her to completion. She nearly sobbed with need. When Sebastian raised his head to murmur, "Lower your arms now, sweet," Ivy’s hands plunged into the thick waves of his hair, holding him to her pulsating flesh. Arching into his mouth, she shamelessly sought the expert strokes of his tongue, his name falling from her lips, punctuated with the word, "please,”. She would have killed an army of marauding invaders for him when his finger slid into her, pushing against a hidden spot on the inner wall of the silken passage. With his finger deep inside her, and unrelenting teasing flickers of his tongue, he pushed her into a kaleidoscope of oblivion.

  Ivy flew apart, crying out as pleasure shimmered through her. Sebastian savored every single pulse as she clenched about his finger until he slowly removed it. And as she shuddered, the rippling pleasure sharp and new, while she floated boneless on a cloud far above the little stream where he had her laid out like food for the gods, Sebastian thrust inside her. Holding her hips aloft, the stream curling around them, he delved deep, pulling her legs up until she wrapped them about his waist. Whispers filled her ears; love words, words of adoration, words of need and lust.

  “I love you, Ivy, love you, love you.” With restrained impatience, he whipped her damp chemise over her head, his hands molding her bare breasts to the shape of his palm before skating down her waist and flanks to grip her hips again. Holding her tighter so she was not injured on the smooth surface of the boulder, Sebastian stroked in and out, hard, then soft, then hard once more, carrying them to a place where desire, love, and lust jockeyed for position and intertwined with the other.

  Ivy teetered on the brink again before he skillfully nudged her into dark, sweet depths. His lips covered hers, his mouth taking hers, swallowing her cry of fulfillment. When Sebastian found his release, she held him close, her hands soothing and warm. Their souls surely mingled on some mystical level, Ivy thought, raining kisses on his face, sighing as the whirlwind of their passion subsided and the world intruded once more.

  But never once, in this magical, secret water garden, could Ivy bring herself to say she loved him. The fairies failed them both in that regard.

  Chapter 36

  Sebastian’s London home was a smaller, more intimate version of Beaumont, with darker wall colors and a heavier, more masculine feel. The furnishings were expensive and tasteful, their weightiness making Ivy feel small and delicate in comparison. The vast space contained a somberness, an unhappiness which seem to linger behind every door and in every cranny. Ravenswood Court did not possess the lightheartedness of Beaumont and this saddened Ivy. Knowing Timothy passed away within these very walls might well be the source of the uneasiness, but even that could not explain all of it.

  Ivy was so glad to see Brody's face when the ornate doors swung wide, she impulsively embraced the man, ignoring the bemused frown Sebastian threw her. Her old butler’s grin and familiar wink bolstered her spirits, and he too, appeared unfazed by the earl’s faint objection to their unorthodox greeting.

  Molly’s welcome was characteristically unreserved. Chattering gaily of the details in moving their belongings to Ravenswood Court, she enveloped her mistress in a warm squeeze then dipped an absent-minded curtsey to Sebastian. Arranged in a formal line to meet their new lady, the other servants observed the going-ons with raised eyebrows, horrified by this informality. Only after meeting the lady who’d snagged their beloved earl did the servants sigh amongst themselves in collective relief. Their new countess, it seemed, would be very pleasant to serve.

  Gabriel was not present to welcome them. Attending to business, Sebastian informed her while Ivy found herself wishing for another familiar, friendly face. And when Lady Garrett glided downstairs like a silent, dismal raven dressed all in black, Ivy wished it all the more.

  “I’m sure you will be happy here, my dear,” Rachel said, taking Ivy’s hand in a gesture of politeness.

  “Thank you, Lady Garrett.” Ivy was jittery and Sebastian frowned, both at her nervousness and his aunt’s definite coolness. The remaining conversation was a stiff replay of their journey to London, and after a few moments, Rachel excused herself to check on preparations for the evening meal. Saying nothing in regard to his aunt’s flat reception, Sebastian dismissed the servants. He took Ivy’s elbow to give her an abbreviated tour of the home’s receiving spaces before leading the way upstairs. Once inside the privacy of their bedchamber, he pulled her into his arms.

  Only a fraction of Ivy’s tenseness eased as he held her. Facing Rachel drained her, the animosity rolling from the woman nearly tangible. Could Sebastian not see and feel it? Maybe he did. It was still so difficult to know what went on behind those slate hued eyes of his.

  "It'll be alright, love,” Sebastian said. "If she does not warm up within a reasonable timeframe, I shall have her moved to another estate, if you wish.”

  Ivy's lips tightened. That decision should not be hers. But instead of saying so, she shook her head. "I do not want her forced to leave her home. I'm sure things will grow easier.” Only, time would not help at all. Indeed, time would probably worsen things.

  The next morning, her father came to have breakfast with them and Ivy suspected his visit was to determine her contentment. What he saw must have pleased him, for he undertook a lengthy discussion with Sebastian regarding the details of a new business venture. Had Jonathan Kinley any misgivings of this marriage, Ivy hoped he would never consider such a proposal, regardless of his admiration for his new son-in-law.

  Midweek, Sara came for tea and Ivy was relieved to see a friendly face. Sebastian was buried in his office with Gabriel, and Lord only knew where Rachel had taken herself off to. The woman was determined to avoid Ivy as much as possible; with the exception of that first night, Lady Garrett declined to take meals with them or spend time with them at all. Ivy was glad.

  Agnes, the bustling, businesslike housekeeper poured the tea, and once the elderly woman exited the drawing room, Sara gave Ivy a wide grin. "This is a far better welcome than the last time I visited.”

  Ivy smothered a helpless giggle. "Sara Morgan, you are terrible. When I think of you barging through the front door, pushing the poor butler aside, not to mention Lady Garrett, even I am shocked.” She reached to squeeze her friend’s hand. “But I am so glad you did. And I never thanked you for that night. After the way I treated you, for you to come to my aid means so much to me."

  "Nonsense. I love you and I did what needed done. Besides, things seem to have worked out for the best. You look very happy. In fact, you are glowing, my dear.”

  Sara’s statement carried an unasked question. Had Ivy forgiven Sebastian?

  It was a question difficult to answer. A month of marriage hardly seemed enough time to forgive such deep betrayals, but deep inside, Ivy knew the answer. Only her damnable pride prevented her from admitting it aloud.

  "You believe I’m glowing?" Ivy skirted the issue. "Careful, Sara. Should Lady Garrett hear of my contentment, or the earl’s, she’ll vow I've employed witchcraft to twist events to my benefit.”

  Sara grimaced. "How I detest the fact you must live with her. Oh, Ivy, has she been terribly unkind?”

  "Just in spirit and demeanor. That first night was a nightmare of awkward silence and Ravenswood attempting to make civilized conversation for the three of us. I understand her unhappiness, Sara, but I too, dread the thought of living with her six months out of the year.”

  “I hope Ravenswood will make her mind her manners. I can’t imagine that he won’t. The man seems to worship you. Is it true he gave you one of his stallion’s offspring? And full possession of the estate jewels? They’re said to be worth a king’s ransom and all yours now. Is that brooch from the coffers? It’s beautiful and quite different.”

  Ivy traced the tiny, gold filigree and diamond butterfly pinned to her shoulder. The collection of rings, necklaces, bracelets and brooches, tiaras and hatpins, bejeweled haircombs, all meticulously catalogued and stored within a huge safe in the master d
ressing room, was astounding. When Sebastian showed it to her, that first afternoon at Ravenswood Court, she’d been overwhelmed. Her interest was piqued by the butterfly jewelry, and hearing the story behind the understated piece, Ivy knew she could not allow it to be locked up in the safe again. It was one of the earliest pieces of jewelry commissioned by the first Earl of Ravenswood, presented to his new bride in 1067, the year after William of Normandy overtook the throne of England, pairing those loyal to his cause with the daughters of his enemies.

  The brooch was not particularly delicate, due to the craftsmanship of its time, but it was intricately wrought and sturdy; the diamonds cut and placed so light was captured from all angles inside the filigree cage. During dinner that evening, Aunt Rachel had stared at the pin, a fixed smile on her features, and Ivy couldn’t help but wonder if the woman secretly coveted the item.

  Sara took another sip of tea, frowned slightly and Ivy grinned. Whatever Lady Sara Morgan wished to say would not stay contain for long.

  "This tea is rather strong. It’s from Ravenswood’s own plantation, you say? How interesting, but I’d prefer a different brew, if it isn’t too much trouble.” Sara waited until Ivy rang for another pot before readdressing the subject at hand. “Have a care around Lady Garrett, Ivy,” she advised, taking Ivy's hand and forcing her to meet her eyes. "Ravenswood will keep you safe, but please, do not lower your guard down around that woman. Is it possible she could live elsewhere?”

  "And give her yet another reason to truly hate me? The best course is to stay out of each other's path in the attempt to maintain civility.” Ivy managed a brave smile. “But you are right. Sebastian will never allow any harm to come to me.”

  Sara laughed sharply. "I’ve learned the lengths he will go to that end. It’s said Viscount Basford departed England with no plans to return in the near future.”

  Ivy bit her lip in silent frustration. "A far better solution than a duel.”