by Jolie Cain
She tried to reach up and clasp him to her, but he caught her hands and pushed them down.
He glanced around and began tugging her to the left until they stopped before the antique cheval mirror that stood in the corner. He turned her to face the mirror, and she looked away, uncomfortable at the sight of her semi-nudity next to his fully clothed figure. “Look at yourself, Lily. I want you to see what I see. How beautiful you are.”
She lifted her eyes and met his in the mirror. His hands came around and cupped her breasts, lifting them, weighing them. He stroked over the nipples which were damply erect, and her head dropped back. His hands moved lower, catching hold of her dress and shoving it over her hips until it fell to the ground in a soft swoosh of silk and lace.
“Lovely,” he whispered.
He helped her unfasten her petticoats, and they joined her gown in a green and white puddle on the floor. She stepped out of the clothing with his help and watched as he lifted them to drape across a nearby chair. Then he removed her corset and flung it to the floor, stroking across the slight indentations in her skin caused by the tight-fitting garment.
She watched as his hands moved slowly down the curve of her waist and then back up again. Goosebumps broke out on her skin, and she couldn’t control the reaction that followed the movement of his hands. When his arm encircled her waist and pulled her back against him, she could feel his erection press boldly against her back.
“Look at us, Lily. Look at how we are together.” The picture reflected in the mirror was the most erotic thing that she had ever seen. She was completely nude with the exception of the white silk stockings tied at her thighs with black garters. The contrast between the whiteness of the stockings and the creamy paleness of her thighs made her even more conscious of her nudity. The springy curls at the apex of her thighs glistened with dewy drops of moisture. Proof of her own arousal. And the figure of the duke towering behind her, his bold masculinity a counterpoint to her own femininity, made her feel delicate and fragile. He bent his head, holding her eyes with his, and kissed the side of her neck, his mouth parting over the pulse that pounded against her skin. His hands moved over the quivering muscles of her stomach to cup over her woman’s mound. She felt overpowered and possessed and marveled that she liked the feeling. She was not a weak woman. In fact, she prided herself on her strength, her independence. Yet for some reason the duke’s obvious dominance over her aroused in her an unbelievable need.
In a sudden movement, he spun her around and took her mouth in a hungry kiss, and her senses reeled. If she thought she had been kissed before, she found how just how wrong she was. If she had ever doubted his physical mastery over her, she had none now.
His tongue breached her mouth in hard demand, allowing no leeway for her relative inexperience. Untutored as she was, she strove to give him what he needed, twining her tongue with his and denying him nothing. He reached down and picked her up, carrying her to place her upon the bed and quickly following her down to crush her into the softness of the mattress. He slanted his mouth over hers again and again, until she was breathless with desire and need.
When he began kissing his way down her body, she struggled to regain some measure of sanity, but that idea completely slipped away as his mouth closed once again over her breasts, devouring the creamy mounds with kiss after stinging kiss. She moaned with pleasure as he took one nipple between his teeth and tugged sharply, the tiny bite of pain adding to the erotic sensations that were threatening to overpower her.
Lily’s senses reeled. His presence surrounded her until she felt totally possessed. He moved farther down, and she struggled to comprehend what it was he was doing. She felt his hands moving lower, sliding between her legs to part them. Then she had her answer when his mouth pressed a soft kiss against her womanly softness. She moved sensuously against the movement of his lips, disbelief giving way to pleasure as his lips and tongue explored every fold and crevice of her most private area.
She had never imagined such a thing. It was what she had felt in the garden magnified tenfold. As he licked over that especially sensitive nubbin, she arched up.
“Please, Richard. Please, I need…”
He paused and looked up, meeting her gaze with his own. “I know, Lily. I know what you need. Believe me. I need it, too.” He bent again to pleasure her, and she began to feel a tightening inside her with which she was already somewhat familiar. She had felt it with him the other night, and she knew, this time, for what goal her body reached. A finger slid inside her, then a second, pumping even as he licked and sucked her. With unexpected force, she exploded, her cry of delight muffled against her hand.
Before the pulses of her release had faded, he had moved over her, released his erection from his breeches, and, with one quick thrust, seated himself inside her hungry channel. He stayed utterly still for several moments, giving her body time to adjust to his thick hardness. It had been so long since she had felt a man’s body inside her own. And even when her husband had deigned to visit her, he had never felt like this. The flaccid corpulence of his body had disgusted her. He had never filled her as Richard did, stretching her channel almost to the point of pain. He had never made her yearn to touch and taste every inch of his skin. But she did now.
Lily lifted her arms to wrap around his shoulders, pulling him even closer. He raised up and looked down into her eyes. “Damn, you feel good, sweetheart.”
She smiled, reveling in how right it all felt, and tightened her insides around his shaft. She watched triumphantly as his eyes almost closed with pleasure. “Damn, woman, who taught you that movement?”
She did it again. “No one, Your Grace. I discovered it all on my own. Just now.”
“Well…not completely on your own, sweetheart.” He gave a wicked grin. She started to laugh, amazed that she would do so at such an intimate moment, and then he moved, and she quit laughing and started moaning.
“Ummmm…do that again,” she whispered.
“Yes, ma’am,” the duke answered.
He began sliding in and out of her, setting a slow steady rhythm designed, she knew, to drive her absolutely insane. His mouth moved against hers in a kiss that mimicked the motions of his body. The double penetration ratcheted her arousal even higher, and her hands reached around to clasp his buttocks, urging him closer and closer. She felt his muscles flex with each thrust.
“Tell me you want me,” he murmured against her mouth, and she gasped out a soft reply.
“I want you. You know I want you.”
“Again,” he demanded. “Louder.”
“I want you.”
“Yes.”
Suddenly she felt it again, that tightening pressure, and she knew that she was going to go over again. “Richard. Richard…it’s happening.”
“Yes, baby. Come for me. Come again, all over my cock.”
She cried out his name and came, her body trembling with the intensity of the climax. He didn’t stop, continuing his thrusts, riding her through the orgasm and showing her no mercy as he strove for his own release.
He reached beneath her hips and tilted her up so that the angle of penetration changed. He began pistoning into her, harder and harder. She wrapped her legs around his hips, pulling him deeper until he called out harshly and emptied himself into her.
He pushed himself off her and slumped to the bed, tugging her against him and enclosing her in his arms. Gradually she regained her senses, becoming conscious of his body against hers where they lay entangled on the bed. He bent down to give her a soft kiss, and Lily smiled sleepily into his eyes, sated and replete.
When Lily awoke the next morning, she was alone in her bed, but the tangled covers betrayed the truth of the night before. Richard had reached for her again and again, seemingly insatiable. The pleasure she had found in his arms was nothing she could possibly have imagined. She found it difficult to believe now that she had actually planned to forgo such bliss for the rest of her life.
Her lady’
s maid, Ellen, entered with a cup of cocoa and a note, which she handed to her mistress. As Ellen busied herself straightening the room, Lily opened the note. After reading it, she gave a pleased smile.
“Ellen? Please lay out the riding habit again. I will be going out again this morning with His Grace.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
* * * *
The next several days followed a similar pattern. She and Richard rode every morning. She’d come to treasure that time because it was during their rides that she felt like she was really coming to know the man rather than the passionate lover or the honorable duke. They explored the estate and one another, finding many areas of common interests and beliefs, and even enjoying those areas of difference. Both had wicked senses of humor, and they both felt close to the land, preferring the outdoors to sitting around and wasting time on frivolous indoor activities. The duke, she learned, had a hands-on approach to managing his estates. He told her that, though it hadn’t always been the case, these days he much preferred the time he spent in the country to the endless rounds of balls and card parties to be found in the capital. He did spend plenty of time in London during the season and periodically throughout the year because he took his seat in the House of Lords very seriously.
Lily had never been to London, and she enjoyed his stories of the antics members of the ton got up to. Some of the things he told her she accused him of making up just to make her laugh, but he kept assuring her that he didn’t need to make up stories. The members of the ton could always be counted on to do something shocking or ridiculous without any need for embellishment on his part. She also teased him about his reputation as a rake, which he didn’t bother to deny, though he assured her that it was impossibly exaggerated. She told him she doubted it.
They also spent some time socializing with Stephen and Caroline’s other guests, joining in the afternoon teas and evening card games. She ignored the speculative glances from both the men and women as they noted the marked attention that Richard paid to her. She and the duke were very careful to give the gossips nothing upon which to remark unfavorably.
And every night they spent wrapped in one another’s arms. Richard patiently introduced her to things she’d never before imagined, and she blossomed under his tutelage. He was a creative and generous lover, pushing her to try new experiences and praising her lavishly for her passionate responses. She explored his body and came to know it nearly as well as she knew her own.
The last day of the house party found her unaccountably depressed. She had known the end of the week would signify the end of their affair, so she wasn’t sure why she was so miserable at the idea of leaving Richard. Yet she was. On their morning ride she was unable to conceal her melancholy from the duke.
“Is something bothering you this morning, Lily?”
She tried to shrug off her preoccupation. “No. Of course not, Richard.”
“Not sorry to see the week come to an end?”
She glanced over, surprised by his comment. “What do you mean?”
He met her gaze candidly. “I’m going to miss you, Lily, and the time we’ve spent together. I was hoping you felt the same.”
Refusing to prevaricate in the face of his honesty, she answered, “I do. I must confess, I hate for our time together to end. Is that too shameful of me?” She saw a smile light up his features at her answer
“It doesn’t have to end, you know, Lily.”
She raised a brow. “Oh, have you plans for coming and spending time in Melksham soon, then?”
He laughed softly. “No, but I was hoping you might be persuaded to come to London.”
“London?” she echoed, as if she’d never heard of the place.
“Yes, my little country mouse. London. You know…big city, lots of people, center of government. Perhaps you’ve heard of it?”
“Why ever would I go to London?”
“Well, it’s still the season, you know. There will be lots of people there. Stephen and Caroline are planning to go up next week. I’m sure she told me that she’s asked you to join them.”
That was true. Caroline always invited Lily to visit her in London, but she’d always refused. It had never held any particular attraction for her…until now.
“I…I don’t know what to say. This is rather unexpected. My plans…”
“Can easily be altered.”
“But I have no clothes suitable…”
“I know this may come as a surprise, but there are dressmakers and shops in London.
Some of them quite good, I believe.” He moved his horse close enough so that he could clasp her hand in his. “Please come, sweetheart. It will be so boring without you.” He gave her hand a squeeze. “I find I have not had my fill of you yet, Lily. I need more time.”
She hesitated only a moment before caving in, unable to combat his urging coupled with her own desires. Why not continue seeing Richard a bit longer? What harm could it do, after all? “All right. I believe I shall.” Immediately the melancholy which had hung over her dissipated. She had made the right decision. Going to London and continuing their affair was a risk, however. She must be sure not to make the mistake of falling for him. That way would be sure disaster.
He grinned down at her and dropped a quick kiss on her mouth. “Excellent, my lady.
Most excellent.”
Chapter Five
The Duke of Carlisle stood propped against the wall in the elegant ballroom, watching as yet another dashing gentleman led Lily onto the dance floor. The past few weeks had been a combination of gratification and frustration. Having Lily with him in London had been everything he had hoped it would be. Caroline had rushed her to the dressmaker’s as soon as they’d reached London, and in no time at all, she’d been all set to enter society as the stylish widow of Edgar Laughton, Lord Morley. She’d been eagerly welcomed by the young matrons and respectable widows, thanks to her good friend Lady Brentwood.
He’d enjoyed introducing her to the pleasures of town life, seeing everything anew through her fascinated and spellbound eyes. They’d gone to the opera, visited Astley’s Royal Amphitheater, and even gone to see a balloon ascension. He’d waltzed with her in elegant ballrooms, enjoying the feel of her in his arms as they’d circled among the elite of society. Walks in Hyde Park and rides down Rotten Row, they’d done it all. The one thing he hadn’t succeeded in doing, at least not often enough for his satisfaction, was finding time to spend alone with the lady.
So, what he had originally thought of as an incredibly clever plan had turned into something of an exquisite torture. The few trysts he’d managed with Lily had been rushed and unsatisfying. He needed more time with her in private, more time to explore her and what they could have together. He didn’t want her to forget the amazing intimacy, the earth-shattering passion they found together. If he was going to persuade her to be his wife, he wanted her to remember all that they could have. Their physical connection was one of his greatest persuasive tools in his quest to win the lady.
And he realized more and more how desperate he was to win her. His emotions were tied to her in a way he had not expected. And the sight of the men who had been dancing attendance upon her every time she appeared engendered feelings he’d never experienced before. It had taken him some time to realize that what he was experiencing was jealousy.
Pure unrestrained jealousy. It was all he could do not to yank her out of the arms of her dance partners and rush her to some private room where he could prove to her that she belonged to him.
There was not much he could do about it, however. They’d already been the center of some comment. The duke was not often seen dancing attendance upon ladies as he’d been doing with Lily. He was aware that the ton was split as to his intentions toward the attractive widow. Some were sure he was paying court to her. Before he’d left for the house party, he had not tried to disguise the fact that he was looking for a wife, and so it was thought that perhaps he had settled on the interesting Lady Morley.
Most, however, believed that he was pursuing Lily for other…more…scandalous reasons. He had heard the gossip. Whether he had succeeded or not, they weren’t certain, but they had no doubt that he eventually would have the lady in his bed. He hated that Lily had become the focus of gossip amongst the biddies of the ton, and he vowed that when she was his duchess no one would ever again dare speak a word against her. He only hoped that she herself was unaware of the talk that was going round. The last thing he wanted was for her to be hurt from her association with him.
As Lily was led from the floor and immediately claimed by another handsome rogue, he turned away with an expression of disgust, only to be brought up short by the sight of his Aunt Matilda heading his way. He groaned to himself. The nosy, interfering busybody was sure to have something to say about his current situation. Though he wished that he could make a quick exit, the truth was he loved the old woman dearly and knew she had nothing but his best interests at heart. Even though she drove him crazy with her machinations, he knew he’d have to grit his teeth and stand his ground. So with a smile he took her hand and bent over it when she reached him.
“There you are, Carlisle. Been hoping to have a word with you tonight. Walk with me, my boy.” The autocratic order was her idea of a pleasant greeting, he supposed.
“Aunt Matilda, you are in quite good looks tonight.”
“Ha! No need for empty flattery with me, my boy. I’m too old to appreciate your smooth talk and too honest to know it for the rubbish that it is. This gown makes me look like an overstuffed piglet and the turban was more than a mistake. Last time I listen to Eloise Chernowith. Never did know the first thing about fashion, even when she was a young thing. Now walk.”
He suppressed a smile and offered her his arm. They strolled for several minutes exchanging a few simple pleasantries, but he knew that she was just warming him up before diving in for the kill. They reached an empty corner of the ballroom and turned to watch the dancers. “So, I hear you’ve been sniffing after the heels of Lady Morley, Carlisle.”
