The Countess Takes a Lover

by Bonnie Dee

  After he’d straightened from the sink and dried his face, Meredith stepped close and combed her fingers through the wet-spiked tendrils. “Blind ninnies,” she murmured, gazing up into his eyes a foot above hers.

  “Pardon?” The word was choked and he swallowed hard as though his throat was too dry for speaking.

  “Society chits. How many chances have those young ladies had at balls and parties to try to snag you? But they didn’t see what was in front of them.”

  A little smile tilted the corners of his mouth. “Actually, I’ve had my share of interest. I’m the sole heir of my father’s fortune and our name is respected.”

  “Hm. Those women saw a title only. They didn’t see you.” Without planning to, she rose up on her toes and kissed him. He gave a slight gasp as her mouth covered his. She pressed against his overheated body, and his hands automatically went to her waist, steadying her. Meredith’s hands slid around his hot neck and pulled his head down that she might kiss him even more deeply. All her intentions to entice him to her bed by slow measures were gone. A flash of hot lust burst through her, and she wanted to take him right there in the kitchen amidst Genevieve’s pots and pans.

  She forgot her own kissing lessons and attacked his mouth rather than teasing it to response. Christopher didn’t seem to have a problem with that. His hands roamed up and down her back, trying to touch her everywhere at once, although they stopped short of crossing her waistline to cup her bottom. His tongue tangled with hers and explored her mouth. Their teeth clicked together with the force of their kiss, and when Meredith finally pulled away to suck in a breath of air, she was lightheaded.

  Christopher was panting, too. His chest rose and fell. His lips were parted and damp. His wide eyes were dilated so dark they appeared navy instead of forget-me-not blue. “I…” He pulled her against him again and swooped down on her mouth once more without finishing the thought.

  Young Whitby had come a long way in a very short time under her tutelage. His lips covered hers in a commanding way that made her insides go liquid and her pussy throb and ache for fulfillment. After a moment, he abandoned her mouth to kiss her jaw and neck, sucking and licking the exposed flesh.

  Meredith tilted her head back to allow him better access to her throat. Her eyes fell closed and she let his strong arms support her melting body. “Ahh. Perhaps… Unh… I should show you to my room now.”

  Chapter Four

  Despite what his father thought, Chris was neither a fool nor particularly naïve. He’d known when he agreed to come to the countess’s estate that it was not merely to examine her greenhouse. The kisses at the Botanical Gardens had clarified that.

  It had taken him a few days of consideration to decide whether he was ready to accept what she offered, but he was tired of his celibate life, tired of imagining what intimate congress with a woman might be like, tired of holding to some high ideal of intellectualism over base urges that he’d set for himself. Yes, he’d known when he responded to her invitation what he was letting himself in for. Meredith de Chevalier was a sophisticated, experienced woman who took her pleasure whenever and wherever she chose and for some reason she’d chosen him. He was damned well going to take advantage of her tutoring in the art of lovemaking.

  What he hadn’t counted on was how quickly things would escalate from a few kisses to her taking him by the hand and nearly dragging him upstairs to her bedchamber. Not that he didn’t want to go. But his head spun with the heady liquor of lust, or perhaps from the lack of oxygen due to kissing, and he wished he might have a moment to get his bearings before the act began.

  There was her bed, the tall posts draped in blue fabric, the white and blue coverlet pulled back invitingly. In a few moments they were going to be lying together on it. He would be inside her body. His cock swelled in anticipation yet at the same time his stomach twisted. What if he didn’t do it right? What if he made a fool of himself by exhibiting his virginal inexperience? Oh God, he wished he’d taken his father up on that offer of practicing with a prostitute. He would surely reveal his incompetence, perhaps move too fast or release too soon, or worse, lose his momentum completely.

  She turned to him, her eyes bright and a smile playing over her lips. Her black hair had fallen completely loose from its pins due to his hands being plunged into it. She looked charming with the curls framing her heart-shaped face. Her jonquil-colored dress was like a ray of sunshine in the dim room, which was shuttered against the heat of the day. The slats of the shutters were open just enough to let in a faint breeze and a few rays of light that illuminated the elegant furnishings and plush carpet.

  “Are you ready?” The countess stroked the side of his face. “You look uncomfortable.”

  “No. I’m fine. I’m ready.” He breathed deeply, trying to calm his racing heart.

  Once more she curled her hand around the back of his neck and pulled him down to her as she rose up on the balls of her feet, reminding him of how short she was. “Just kiss me. The rest will follow naturally,” she whispered, before blending her lips with his.

  He closed his eyes and did as she bid, and of course, she was right. It felt good and natural to hold her in his arms. His hands knew what to do, where to touch, how to stroke up her back and then down again to hold her rear. Her buttocks were buried beneath layers of fabric but he still felt a thrill at the unbelievable liberty of touching them. He pulled her tight against the hard erection filling the front of his breeches. It was nearly painful in its throbbing need. The yielding softness of her body both relieved and made the ache even worse. He needed to be inside her, not rubbing against her.

  He kissed her mouth, slipping his tongue between soft lips to touch hers. She teased him, darting her tongue out and pulling it back in a little game that made him smile. He’d never realized playfulness might be a part of lovemaking.

  After kissing her softly and gently then hard and deep for several minutes, he pulled his mouth from hers and moved it to her neck. The smooth, warm skin beneath his lips, the pulse of life in her throat and the salty taste of her skin sent new waves of desire coursing through him. He licked down the column of her throat and along her delicate collarbones. Her soft intake of air, such a sweet, feminine sound, made him feel strong, powerful and very masculine.

  He dared to dip his mouth lower, to kiss the flat plane of her chest down to the soft swell of her cleavage. The top mounds of her breasts pushed up by her tight bodice were displayed in a tempting froth of lace that framed them like a picture. He kissed them. By God, his mouth was on her breasts and they were so incredibly soft. Their plump fullness yielded to the pressure of his lips. They were scented with rosewater and he thought he would never again smell a rose without thinking of her breasts.

  Her hands threaded through his hair, pushing on his head slightly and encouraging his exploration of her breasts. “You may remove my dress,” she murmured, tugging on his hair to pull him away.

  Chris straightened and the countess turned her back to him that he might unfasten the row of hooks down the back of her bodice. His hands felt huge and clumsy as he concentrated on the painstaking assignment. He was in too much of a hurry and his fingers trembled from nervous excitement. Giving an impatient grunt, he considered ripping the dress open.

  “Patience, ma petite.” She laughed and her smooth white shoulders shook. “Open your present slowly. Savor each moment.”

  He resumed the task and this time followed her advice, bending to kiss each inch of flesh as it was revealed. She wore no corset beneath her high-waist dress, just a light camisole, the fabric so sheer it revealed her rosy skin. He kissed her right through the cloudy material, his mouth wetting it and molding it to her flesh.

  As soon as he had enough hooks unfastened, he peeled the bodice down her body while she pulled her arms from the small, puffed sleeves. He pushed the dress over the flare of her hips and let it fall to the floor in a pool around her feet. Within seconds he had her camisole peeled off, too, and turned her
to face him.

  Other than white marble statues in a museum, he’d never seen a naked woman. The mystery of the soft mounds a woman’s décolletage only teasingly advertised was revealed to his sight. His breath caught as his gaze riveted on the pale globes of flesh, small and high with rosy aureoles and peaked nipples centered in each. They were lovely. He thought he could simply feast on the sight of them for hours, but his body had other ideas. His hands reached for them and his tongue swept over his lips, eager to taste them.

  Touching her breasts tenderly, he stroked the flesh, as soft as a kid glove, feeling the texture beneath his fingertips. Then he cupped one in each hand and tested the weight and firmness. Finally he could resist no longer and drew one erect tip into his mouth. He rolled his tongue over it and sucked lightly. Such bliss!

  He never stopped to worry if he was doing it right, and the countess moaned softly, assuring him that she was pleased. While his tongue laved the slope of her breast and suckled her nipple, he continued to fondle her other breast, rolling the tip between his thumb and forefinger lightly.

  “You can pinch a little. I don’t mind.”

  Chris glanced up to meet her eyes, the dark gray of a stormy sky.

  “A little pain mixed with the pleasure is a good thing.” She smiled. “As long as the lady wants it.”

  He tested the truth of her words, squeezing the erect bud harder and even twisting it a little. She gasped, an extended “ahh” of satisfaction.

  Switching sides, he gave equal treatment to her other breast, sucking, licking and nipping until her moans grew louder. The sound of her pleasure undid him. He pulled away from her chest and dragged his shirt over his head, casting it aside. Then he reached for the front of his breeches.

  While he stripped, she removed her petticoat and drawers. He was torn between looking down at his underdrawers where a knot in the drawstring was slowing him down, and staring at the rest of her body as it was uncovered. Waist, hips, belly… He swallowed and stared as the patch of dark curls marking her sex was revealed, followed by pale thighs. She bent to take her underwear off her legs and his view was cut off for a moment. Chris fumbled with the knotted drawstring, cursing under his breath.

  “Here, let me help.” She pushed his hands aside and with her long fingernails picked at the knot holding him captive.

  His pulse pounded as he gazed at her nude body standing inches away from his—the breasts, which he’d come to know so well in only a few short minutes, and the secret place between her thighs he had yet to explore.

  The countess untied the drawstring and pulled his pants down. His cock sprang forth, fully erect and bobbing gently in the air like a marionette whose string has been pulled. She quickly helped him shed the rest of his clothes, then took his cock in one hand, encircling its girth in the warmth of her palm and fingers.

  Chris couldn’t prevent the groan that escaped him at the glorious sensation of her touch. His member was suffused with blood, dark red at the head and already leaking white droplets. As she moved her hand up and down once, twice, three times, he drew in a breath and held it, willing himself not to spill over her massaging fist.

  It was nearly impossible to believe this was happening. No hand but his own had ever touched him there. The sheer wonder of that contact alone was enough to put him over the edge. But he gritted his teeth and held out for the wonderful things he knew were still coming.

  “You’re hungry for it, aren’t you?” Her voice was husky and her eyes dark as she gazed into his face. “I shan’t make you wait much longer. Not this time. Come now.” Releasing his cock from her firm grip, she took his hand and led him toward her bed.

  She pulled back the covers and climbed onto the high mattress, then held out her hand for him to join her.

  Chris paused only long enough to make a mental picture of how she looked at this moment, reclining on her bed, her skin flushed pink as a rose, her eyes huge in her small face, her black hair tumbling like a cloud around it. Oh how beautiful she was! He would never forget this image as long as he lived, or the thunderous, momentous feeling building inside him. Life as he knew it was about to change from the moment he mounted the bed…and the woman.

  He straddled her body, her knees on either side of his hips, his arms braced beside her head. His skin brushed against her silken skin. His cock nestled in the soft nest of hair at the juncture of her thighs. He gazed into her eyes. He was poised and ready, but waiting for a signal to continue. His body trembled as if he had the ague, it was so primed and ready to explode into action.

  Her hands slipped down between them and fondled his cock. Chris groaned when she guided it to her moist entrance and placed it there, just inside. His jaw knotted as he fought back the urge to ram into her with a savage thrust.

  She gripped his buttocks and pulled him toward her. “It’s all right. Come inside me.” The invitation was music to his ears. He pushed into the heat and wetness of her body with a protracted sigh. Her inner muscles clenched around him, drawing him deeper, welcoming him inside. “That’s good,” she whispered. “Just like that.”

  Her soft encouragement filled him with glowing warmth and spurred him onward. He paused for a moment, seated deeply inside her, enjoying the tremendous heat surrounding him, hotter even than the swelter of the greenhouse, then he withdrew his entire length. Her body surrendered him reluctantly, wet suction holding his shaft tightly as he pulled out.

  In again. Another thrust buried him balls deep inside her. Chris grunted as he came home. “Oh, God,” he murmured.

  Her feet slid up his calves and her legs cradled his hips before wrapping around his lower back, grappling him to her like climbing ivy. “Again!” she ordered.

  He needed no further encouragement for he was already pulling out to thrust once more. The new angle of her body made his penetration even deeper. Her slippery channel surrounded him, easing his way so that he glided as smoothly as a boat cutting across a lake.

  His arms quivered from the effort of supporting his weight and he let his body ease down on top of her. She didn’t seem to mind but slid her arms around his back and clutched his shoulders from behind. Her head nestled into the crook of his neck and shoulder and she nuzzled him there, kissing, licking then biting his flesh.

  With each thrust, he grew more confident, his doubts about his prowess fading away. This was what his body was made for. It felt completely right to fill her like this. He wanted to be lost inside her body, to become one with her, and as his desire mounted to fever pitch, this seemed quite possible. Their very flesh was melded together with sweat and juices.

  He stroked faster and harder, hips pumping. She met his every thrust, emitting soft moans and whimpers as she wrapped herself around him. Then, quite suddenly, pleasure burst through him like the moment when a seedling first breaks from the soil and unfurls to the sunlight. It felt like fledgling stars were exploding inside him, suns and moons and an entire cosmos spreading through every fiber of his being. He was electrified and alive in a way he’d never experienced before. A cry burst from his throat and he froze while wave after wave of ecstasy churned through him.

  When the last pulse had diminished, he came back to an awareness of his body as an earthbound entity and the knowledge that he and the woman beneath him were indeed two separate beings. His eyelids flickered open and he gazed at her shoulder and a lock of dark hair curling over it. Her fingers, which had been embedded in his shoulders, now stroked soothingly up and down his back.

  “Good?” she whispered.

  He lifted his face to look into her dark-fringed eyes. “Very good. I didn’t know how it would be, that it could be so…powerful.”

  “I know.” She nodded. “But, believe me, it’s not always that good. It’s not the same with every partner.”

  “You’ve had a lot?” The question was inappropriate, but he meant no judgment by it, merely curiosity.

  She smiled. “A few. Maybe more than my share.”

  “Was I, uh, adequ
ate?” There seemed no point in pretense in this intimate, honest moment.

  Her smile widened as she caressed his cheek. “You were perfect.”

  He blushed. Of course she would say that. She was kind and wouldn’t tell him if he was utter crap at it. But it felt like the truth. Their bodies had felt good together, hitting a rhythm that seemed to please her as much as it did him. A thought occurred to him. “Did you… I mean, do women achieve the same…level of fulfillment?”

  “Do we orgasm? Yes, women can and do, but many men never bother to find that out, I’m sorry to say.”

  He had a hard time meeting her direct gaze as he asked his next question. “Did you, just now?”

  “No. But that’s all right. We have plenty of time. It doesn’t happen so quickly and easily for women as for men.” Her eyes crinkled at the corners as she smiled. “But I’ll show you ways to ensure your partner climaxes every time.”

  His cheeks burned at the forbidden words “orgasm” and “climax” tripping so easily from her tongue. How silly that he could perform the act and still blush to hear it spoken of. But he wanted her to teach him how to make a woman come. He wanted to make the countess cry out in helpless abandon as he had just done and to see her expression when she was lost in ecstasy.

  The countess. He could probably call her Meredith now that their relationship was on much less formal footing. How strange it was that he hadn’t even said her name out loud yet.

  “What are you thinking?” she asked. “I can see thoughts flickering in your eyes.”

  “Meredith.” He tested the sound on his tongue. “I was just wondering if you take some precaution to prevent, ah, pregnancy.” He’d read of herbal concoctions. It hadn’t occurred to him until just now that he should have used a French letter to encase his penis.

  “There’s no need. I’m barren,” she said simply. “My lack of ability to bear children was one of the problems in my marriage. One of many.”