Madam Charlie

by Sahara Kelly

  But she’d asked for a chance to learn about him, and by God he’d give it to her. If he happened to expire from pleasure during the experience, well, he’d die a happy man.

  “Aaahh…” A gasp of laughter was surprised out of him as she brushed the sensitive spot just beneath his armpit.

  She grinned. “Jordan, you’re ticklish. I’d never have guessed.”

  Jordan bit his lip and willed himself not to react. “Not very much. And I’ll wager I can find your ticklish spots in less than ten seconds.”

  She laughed aloud, tracing his muscles with her fingertips. “You probably could. That’s one wager I’m not accepting. I’m too busy on my voyage of discovery.”

  She leaned forward and delicately suckled his nipple, swirling it with her tongue and bringing a moan of delight to his throat.

  “God, Charlie, I love it when you do that.”

  She pulled back with a final loving lick. “I never knew men could be so sensitive there.” She smoothed the length of his torso with her hands, half in a caress half in a massage.

  Jordan sighed with pleasure. “Men are sensitive everywhere, Charlie,” he chuckled. “Anything you do to us weaklings, we’ll respond to.”

  Charlie swept down to his navel, slithering down the bed a little.

  Jordan’s voice became rougher as her hands dipped into the little well and tickled the flesh of his abdomen.

  “Things like that…” He swallowed as her tongue followed her fingertips. “When you do something like that, it makes me want to…ooooh,” he groaned.

  She’d slipped her hands to the very edge of his pubic hair and her breasts were brushing his flesh. He could feel the taut nipples as they pressed against him. Her tongue lapped at his navel then traveled south, making every nerve ending flicker. His cock was harder than a tree trunk and felt about the same size. He prayed it didn’t bounce against her head and kill her.

  “It makes you want to what, Jordan?” she asked, blowing gently on the skin her tongue had moistened.

  Jordan’s hips fidgeted.

  “It…it…you make me want to return the favor. I want my tongue on you, Charlie. Everywhere…”

  His voice failed him as she reached her destination and took his cock in her hands. He was so sensitive to her that he could feel the breath as it blew from her nostrils while she ran her fingers over him, learning him, feeling him, looking at him.

  He was lost. “God, Charlie,” he muttered, his head arching back a little as her hand explored his ridges and veins, gently smoothing, caressing and adding a little squeeze now and again for good measure.

  “Do you like this, Jordan? Is it pleasant for you?”

  Jordan could only grunt. Her lips had closed over his cock and the rest of his mind had gone off someplace else. What was left had just achieved the ultimate bliss.

  Cautiously she slid her mouth over him, moving her tongue a little, licking and tasting and discovering textures and nooks and crannies he never knew he had.

  Women had performed this service for him before, many times. He was a soldier and this was accepted as the safest way to get pleasure from the women they met in their campaigns. Jordan had never had the desire to contract any of the virulent poxes that were rampant in any army, so this was how he’d achieved his release.

  But this was a totally new feeling. This was something that transcended the physical act. This was a blending, a giving, a sharing, that was unique in his experience. The way Charlie’s tongue loved him was soft and warm and wanting, and he felt he needed every little move she gave him.

  He raised his head slightly to watch her as she moved on his body, her golden hair swept back and teasing the skin of his thighs.

  Her cheeks moved as she sucked, setting up her own rhythm that tugged at his heart as well as his balls.

  Clearly, she was a newcomer to this kind of fun, her movements were a little awkward and hesitant, but Jordan wouldn’t have had it any other way. It was so much more than just the touch of her mouth on his cock. It was her wish to taste him, to touch him, and to learn his pleasures that reached deep inside him. She was sucking on the one place no one had ever even neared before.

  His heart.

  Intrepid and adventurous, she moved a hand between his legs and found his balls. She cupped them gently, as if they were the most fragile treasure in existence. Jordan couldn’t argue, because at this moment they were.

  She found the little spot beneath the head that made him writhe and moan.

  “Charlieeee…” he hissed, gritting his teeth and hanging on to his control for dear life.

  “Jordan, let go,” she breathed, blowing air over his wet cock and making it tremble. “I want you to let go. I watched as you came in Jane’s hand at the Crescent, and I wanted it to be me that made you come. Let it be me this time, Jordan. Give me that experience. Please…”

  She didn’t have to ask twice.

  As soon as her lips slid back over his cock, she allowed her hand to grasp the base and slipped her other hand behind his balls to that wonderfully sensitive spot that raised every hair on his body and sent his muscles into spasm.

  “God, I’m going to…I can’t hold on…”

  He knew he was going to lose this battle. Charlie had asked nicely, and although his mind was telling him that she was a lady and he shouldn’t be doing this, the rest of him was screaming for release and plunging down towards his cock in readiness.

  She moved her head more quickly, more sure now of her movements. It was all over for Jordan.

  Seconds later he felt his buttocks tighten, his legs went rigid and it was as if a bolt of lightning traveled down his spine, through his balls and up his cock, making it explode in the warmth of Charlie’s mouth.

  She hummed as he came, spurting long and deep into her throat. She held him tight, squeezing a little as if milking every last drop.

  Exhausted, he flopped onto the bed.

  “Oh my God. Charlie. Oh my God.”

  His wits had clearly gone wandering. A woman gave him one of the greatest pleasures that he had ever experienced and that was the best he could come up with. He sighed.

  “I take it you enjoyed that,” she was beside him with a very wicked smile on her face.

  Her eyes narrowed and she leaned over and gently kissed him, letting him taste himself on her lips. “Now you know what you taste like,” she breathed. “It’s nice. A little salty, quite unique. And you feel so wonderful, Jordan. That was a moment I’ll always treasure. Holding you as you came. It was magic.”

  Jordan Lyndhurst was lost. He looked into her gray eyes and saw the genuine pleasure and honesty shining from within. At that moment he knew he’d fallen in love.

  The battle was over, the campaign finished. He’d taken his objectives with great success, and when the dust settled, he had to admit defeat.

  He’d been rolled up, foot and guns. His adversary, with a combination of cunning, intelligence, sensuality and affection, had routed him decisively and taken a prisoner.

  She now had his heart.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Charlie sensed it was late when she awoke the next morning.

  The sun was shining through the half drawn drapes, and Jordan’s side of the bed was empty and cold.

  After they’d recovered from their sensual games the day before, events had swirled around Charlie at record speed. Elizabeth too, had professed herself at a loss to fully comprehend Jordan’s security arrangements.

  But he’d been a whirlwind, organizing his staff and his extra guards to within an inch of their lives.

  Elizabeth had been required to describe the man from the Crescent several times, and even tried to draw him at Jordan’s insistence.

  Unfortunately, she could not claim much talent in the field of portraiture and so the effort was abandoned.

  Charlie had not been able to stop herself from glancing around her as she realized that she was once again at Calverton Chase.

  She also spent consid
erable time wondering why she didn’t feel more uncomfortable returning to this place which held so many dreadful memories.

  But it didn’t take long for her to understand that the Calverton Chase of her past had gone up in smoke.

  The dark and dreary rooms that had figured largely in her nightmares were gone. The main staircase was about the only thing that looked vaguely similar to her memories, and even that was glowing with beeswax and had a lovely Aubusson stretching its entire length. Many of the rebuilt rooms were still empty and Jordan made no bones about the fact that any monies he’d inherited had gone into construction. It was his opinion that future generations could worry about the color of the curtains, his duty was to see that there were good solid windows from which to hang them.

  In truth, Charlie could see nothing of the Calverton Chase that had haunted her for so long and another weight slipped unnoticed from her shoulders.

  A small furor had been occasioned in the middle of the afternoon when a cloud of dust announced a rider approaching at great speed.

  Jordan sent the girls into the library and waited at the door himself. A dueling pistol was unobtrusively lying on a small shadowed table within arm’s reach.

  Charlie and Elizabeth had snorted with disgust at such cavalier treatment, and peeped cautiously from the room, anxious to see who had arrived.

  Loud voices accompanied by Jordan’s laughter assured them that all was well, and they left the room in a hurry to rush to the front door.

  There, on the steps, Charlie saw Jordan being hugged by a Viking. Well, someone who fit the description of what she always imagined a Viking would look like.

  Very tall, well muscled and with a shock of light blonde hair, the man was laughing and slapping Jordan on the back. Hard.

  Charlie winced for him.

  She noticed the uniform. This must be one of Jordan’s old comrades in arms.

  Elizabeth was very still beside her. “That’s him, Charlie…” she whispered.

  “Hmm? That’s who?”

  “That’s the man who kissed my breast.”

  Charlie jumped, and realized Elizabeth was hanging on to her arm with a grip like death.

  “I’d never forget that hair or those eyes,” Elizabeth’s voice trailed off as she stared at the man at the bottom of the steps. “Whatever do you think he’s doing here? And I don’t remember him in uniform…”

  The men turned and saw the two girls standing arm-in-arm in the doorway.

  Jordan’s gaze blistered Charlie and for a second it seemed he’d forgotten where he was.

  But a sound from his companion recalled his attention and together they moved up the long flight of stairs.

  “Look who’s here…” said Jordan, grinning from ear to ear.

  “Oh I’m looking,” muttered Elizabeth, sotto voce.

  “Charlie, Elizabeth, this is Lieutenant General Sir Spencer Marchwood. Spence, may I present Miss Charlotte, and Lady Elizabeth Wentworth.”

  “Ladies, it’s a rare day when the sun is outshone, but I must conclude that this is indeed a rare day.”

  Sir Spencer bowed gracefully, and Charlie wondered if he was on Wellington’s staff, all of whom were renowned for their smooth manners and gracious address. Sir Spencer oozed charm, but it was tempered by the rather wicked curve to his lips as he raised Elizabeth’s hand.

  “To kiss this hand sends chills up my spine, Lady Elizabeth. Your skin is amazingly soft against my lips.” He paused and stared down into her eyes. “As I remember.”

  Even Charlie shivered and Elizabeth was rendered mute. Good heavens, the man was good.

  Jordan cleared his throat. “Inside please, ladies. Spence has news.”

  The rest of the afternoon had passed with talk of Wellington’s great victory near a small town in Belgium.

  Spencer had apparently been on his way to rejoin his regiment, but was unable to reach Brussels in time. So he’d turned back from the coast as soon as the first dispatches arrived, and heard the rumors that linked trouble with Jordan Lyndhurst.

  “After all, I couldn’t let one of the old brigade handle this sort of thing by himself. He’d mess it up for sure.”

  Jordan sighed. “So there are mutterings about this business. Damnation, I hoped we’d kept it quiet. That doesn’t mean the entire brigade is going to arrive on my doorstep within a few hours, does it?”

  “Wouldn’t hurt to have the extra help,” muttered Arthur as he brought in a tray burdened with glasses of fresh ale and a pot of tea.

  “Arthur, you old sod. Still plowing the local fields?”

  Arthur accomplished the amazing feat of glancing down his nose at the man who towered over him by at least twelve inches. “Still keeping your brains in your breeches, Sir Spencer?”

  Jordan chuckled. “Don’t even try to out-Arthur Arthur, Spence. You’ll never succeed. Now, let me tell you what’s been going on and you can tell us about…what was the name? Waterloo?”

  Apparently, talk of war was both arduous and lengthy, because long before the men had finished, Elizabeth and Charlie found themselves drooping before the fire. Dinner had been very informal, and dominated by reminiscences of friends, sighs over losses, and laughter at bygone escapades.

  All of which were quite fascinating to the gentlemen, but palled after a while on their female companions.

  Both men stood politely when Charlie and Elizabeth announced they were retiring for the evening.

  Jordan had flashed a hot look at Charlie, and Spencer had very obviously stripped the clothes off Elizabeth with his eyes.

  Both girls had retired, blushing, to giggle their way upstairs to their rooms.

  Charlie had tried to stay awake, but Jordan was a long time coming, and sleep had claimed her before he’d come upstairs.

  She’d vaguely felt him pull her into his arms, and had turned to hear the solid thump of his heart beneath her ear.

  She’d slept, content, knowing he was there.

  But now it was morning, and he was up and gone. Time for her to face the day and whatever it might bring.

  It brought Elizabeth.

  * * * * *

  “Well finally,” said an exasperated voice. Charlie pulled herself up on her pillow to see Elizabeth waving away a servant and bringing Charlie’s morning repast in all by herself.

  “I’ve had all night to think about him, and I’ve come to a decision.” She plopped the tray down on the table next to the bed with a thump, and landed on the bed next to Charlie, crossing her legs Indian-style and tugging up her skirts in a very inelegant way.

  “I want Spencer Marchwood.”

  Charlie closed her eyes. “I think I’d like my tea first please. And pass that toast too. Have you had anything?”

  “Yes, I’ve eaten. Although that crumpet looks quite fresh. You don’t mind?” Charlie vaguely waved her hand as Elizabeth commandeered the crumpet, slathered butter on it and devoured it with relish.

  “So,” said Charlie, allowing her eyes to finally focus on her companion. “You want Spencer Marchwood.”

  “Yes.”

  “Define ‘want’.”

  “Well, I want him in my bed. On top of me. Taking my virginity. I think he’ll do an excellent job of it. What do you think?”

  Charlie coughed as a huge crumb lodged behind her windpipe. It took several sips of restorative tea to get her voice working again.

  “Elizabeth, this isn’t something you should be casual about. This is something you should save for your husband. And I thought you said Ryan Penderly was the victim—er—candidate for that job.”

  Elizabeth quirked a brow at Charlie. “You haven’t seen Ryan Penderly. He’s nice. Nice, Charlie.” Her lips curled. “He deserves a nice wife, nice children. I thought at first that that would be me, but the more time passes, I am realizing that I’m not nice.” She sighed and put down the remains of her crumpet.

  “I want more, Charlie. I want excitement. I want stars and bugles and fireworks. I want to feel. You asked
me a little while ago what I wanted. Well, now I know. I want to feel Spencer Marchwood. When his lips touched my skin it was like a fire or what they say that electricity machine makes. A tingle, an almost painful sensation that shoots down to some very private places…”

  Elizabeth gazed at Charlie. “Do you understand anything of what I’m talking about?”

  Charlie looked back at her. “Oh yes. Oh yes indeed I do.”

  “Well, then. Believe me when I tell you that I have met many men…I couldn’t be a member of the Ton and not have them run past me like bidders at an auction.” Her lips pouted in distaste. “Not one of them ever made me feel like he does, Charlie. Not one.”

  “Not one of them ever kissed your breast, either,” reminded Charlie.

  “True. But the thing is, the same feeling happened yesterday when he kissed my hand.” She waved at her bodice and colored slightly. “He touched me and things started happening. I could feel my breasts…it was most unusual…”

  Charlie smiled comfortingly. “Not really. It was arousal, Elizabeth. This man arouses you. Sexually. That’s a good thing. Ordinarily, he’d speak with your parents and you two could further your acquaintance…”

  “But that’s just it, Charlie. I don’t want that. I simply want to know what lies between us. What the potential is for our mutual pleasure. I don’t want to think about heirs and bloodlines and dowries. Why can’t I just enjoy him all by myself? Why does it have to affect the future of the nation? I just want to fuck him, for heaven’s sake.”

  Charlie’s eyebrows rose. “Well, that’s calling a spade a spade, isn’t it?”

  “I’m tired of mealy mouthed chits who flutter around and look like they’re going to faint if someone so much as mentions a body part in their hearing.” Elizabeth nodded her head assertively. “I’m not like that.”

  “No, that’s absolutely certain,” agreed Charlie with a grin. “So do you want me to hold him down while you strip him and play with him?”

  The question caught Elizabeth off guard and she stopped, stunned, before going off into peals of laughter.

  “Oh lord, Charlie, you’re wonderful. I’m so glad I know you.” It took a few moments for the merriment to die down. “No, I don’t think we need go that far, besides, Jordan would never permit you to touch another man while he’s around. Even a blind man could sense that.” She chuckled. “I always wondered what Jordan would be like when he found his woman. Now I know. He’s really rather sweet.”