Obsession (Regency Lovers 2)

by Carole Mortimer

  “You are only twenty now, my love,” Hawkwood teased.

  “But I have also been married to you for two months,” she reminded.

  “True,” Hawkwood accepted.

  Emma turned back to Alex. “Seeing you with your cock buried inside Maria will almost certainly have sparked that curiosity in Amanda, if it was not already there, in regard to physical relations between a man and a woman. If that is the case, then I would not be at all surprised if your young and beautiful ward did not become aroused by being spanked.”

  Alex wondered if introducing Emma to Amanda was the right thing to do, after all. The two women were very much alike, and he dreaded to think how much more willful Amanda would become under his sister-in-law’s influence.

  Chapter 3

  “You did not feel the necessity to change your gown for dinner?”

  Amanda glanced beneath her lashes at her guardian seated at the far end of the dinner table. Alexander Stirling certainly looked elegant in his black evening clothes and crisp white linen, his overlong dark hair brushed back from that handsome face dominated by emerald-green eyes.

  As for her own appearance… “I do not have another gown suitable to wear for dinner, my lord.”

  Irritation creased his brow. “Why is that?”

  She shrugged. “At school, we rarely went anywhere apart from church on a Sunday morning, and on those occasions, we always wore our school uniform. We did attend the occasional local dance, but this one gown was sufficient for that.”

  If anything, he looked even more irritated. “My sister-in-law, the Duchess of Hawkwood, will be calling upon you tomorrow. As there are still several weeks left of the Season, I will ask that Emma assist you with choosing a new wardrobe so that you might be presented to the Prince Regent and then accompany me to those Society events.”

  Amanda felt a surge of excitement, both at the thought of the new gowns and being presented to the Prince Regent.

  It was true Miss Marchment had accompanied her older pupils to several of the local dances in Portsmouth, but only as a way of introducing them to the manners and behavior that might be expected of them once they left the school. Several of the young ladies there belonged to families who would present them into Society. Admittedly, Amanda’s father had been a lord and so a part of that Society, but her guardian’s lack of interest in her had meant Amanda had never thought or expected she might enter Society herself.

  She kept her gaze demurely lowered so as not to reveal her inner excitement. “I should not like to trouble the duchess—”

  “You did not appear to feel that same reluctance in troubling me this afternoon.”

  Amanda felt her cheeks warm at the rebuke.

  She had spent some of the time Alexander was away from the house—this conversation seemed to imply he had been visiting his brother and sister-in-law—lying on the bed in her newly arranged bedchamber. Having removed her gown so as to avoid crushing it, she had been unable to resist the impulse to unfasten and pull down the top of her chemise and allow the fingers and thumb of one hand to tweak and pull on her sensitive nipples, while the fingers of the other hand slid into the slit of her drawers and stroked her erect and swollen clit until the ecstasy of release washed over her.

  No doubt Alexander, for all that he was obviously a sophisticated and sexually active gentleman of Society, would be shocked to learn that one of the lessons Miss Marchment taught at her school was a woman’s duties as a wife. What was not mentioned under that subject in the school’s curriculum was that, as well as the household and family demands made upon the lady of the house, their headmistress had ensured all “her girls” were aware of their role in the bedchamber and how best they might also enjoy it.

  As such, Amanda had known earlier exactly what the tingling in her breasts and the hardness of her nipples, along with the warmth and slickness between her thighs, were an indication of.

  Her sexual arousal.

  That response had begun the moment she saw Alexander’s thick cock buried in another woman’s pussy, and was further added to by having Alexander later spank her.

  Yes, those blows to her bottom had hurt, but alongside that pain had been the demanding heat of her core and slick pussy lips, and the aching of her breasts for further stimulation.

  A stimulation and pleasure Amanda felt no compunction in giving herself once alone in her new bedchamber. An act which the beautiful and determined to remain unmarried Miss Marchment had demanded all her girls must learn “because,” she had told them scathingly, “many gentlemen believe it unladylike for their wives to feel the same physical pleasure they all enjoy as their God-given right.”

  This afternoon, Amanda had found her release within minutes of closing her eyes and imagining it was Alexander lying beside her on the bed tweaking and pulling on her nipples and stroking the nubbin between her thighs.

  His having spanked her today had only fanned the flames of that instant infatuation she had felt toward him three years ago.

  Alex had expected more of a response to the fact he was willing to introduce Amanda to the Prince Regent and Society this late in the Season. Excitement, perhaps, at the prospect of attending the few balls and soirees left. Or, at the very least, gratitude toward him, as her guardian, for being prepared to make the sacrifice of accompanying her.

  Alex inwardly acknowledged there was an ulterior motive to his sacrifice. Even though there were only a few weeks left of the Season, Amanda was both beautiful and presentable enough to perhaps receive an offer of marriage, and so relieving Alex of further responsibility for her.

  Instead of being excited at the prospect of attending balls and soirees, Amanda only seemed concerned with the possibility of being an imposition to Emma—

  “There was such a groaning and shrieking coming from your bedchamber earlier, I believed you must either be ill or dying,” his ward now answered his rebuke.

  Alex stared at her incredulously for several long seconds, wondering if he had heard her correctly. The challenge in Amanda’s gaze told him that he had, and demanded he, in turn, rebuke her for the indelicacy of having mentioning Maria’s “groaning and shrieking” at all.

  In the end, he decided it was perhaps best he did not pursue a subject which put him at such a disadvantage. “You expect me to believe that?”

  She nodded. “I was far too concerned as to your welfare to delay coming to your rescue.”

  Alex’s gaze narrowed at his ward’s overly sweet and innocent tone, accompanied by an equally insincere expression. “Continue in this provocative manner, and I will be forced to administer another spanking.” Perhaps not the best idea, considering his conversation earlier with Emma and his awareness of his own arousal after he had spanked Amanda this afternoon.

  He had already been far too preoccupied, as he bathed and dressed before dinner, with the possibility of bending Amanda bare-arsed over his desk again, and feeling, as Hawkwood had described, the smoothness of that juicy and rapidly heating flesh beneath his own palm. Thoughts that had resulted in another painful cock stand that had required the attention of Alex’s hand before he could fasten his evening trousers in readiness for coming downstairs for dinner. A release that, after satisfying Maria Dalrimple thrice this afternoon, Alex had not believed his exhausted cock to be capable of.

  Apparently imagining Amanda Fullerton’s bared and rounded rump as he bent her over his desk in readiness to receive another spanking was more than enough encouragement to revive that part of his anatomy.

  Emma’s suggestion Amanda might have liked her spanking had set Alex to wondering if Amanda might have enjoyed it even more if he’d pulled her drawers down to her knees before striking the first blow. She did have a wonderfully plump arse, even when it was covered by white cotton drawers.

  And he, Alex realized with a scowl, was becoming aroused again. “Did you locate the salve in my dressing room earlier?” He changed the subject to one less uncomfortable to himself.

  Amanda fr
owned at the sharpness with which her guardian spoke. “I did, thank you. I am also curious as to why you would have such a salve in your dressing room?”

  A curiosity Alex had no intention of satisfying, considering the use he had put it to before dinner; the salve allowed his hand to glide smoothly up and down his cock whenever he pleasured himself. So much for choosing a less uncomfortable subject! “I trust it helped,” he snapped his impatience.

  “It did, yes.” It was easy for Amanda to discern Alexander’s irritation. His gaze avoided meeting hers, there was a slight flush to the skin along his cheekbones, and his mouth was set in a grim line. Which was surprising considering Amanda had not only seen him completely naked earlier today but also with his roused cock buried in the smooth and bare pussy of his mistress.

  Did all ladies shave the hair from their mound?

  It was not something Miss Marchment had mentioned during their lessons on their necessary health and hygiene before and after participating in sexual relations with their husbands.

  Perhaps the headmistress had not known of the practice?

  Although Amanda found that hard to believe when Miss Marchment had been a font of knowledge on all other aspects of what her girls should expect when they became married women.

  Perhaps it was a new fashion which had not yet spread as far as Portsmouth? Or one only married ladies indulged in, in order to allow their husbands easier access to their cunny? One that Miss Marchment, unmarried by choice, was simply not aware of?

  Amanda gazed down the table at her guardian “I am curious, my lord…”

  The statement was made innocently enough, Alex accepted, and yet there was something about Amanda’s tone that instantly put him on his guard. Especially so considering the subject of their previous conversation. He should not have alluded to the spanking, even inadvertently, he had given her earlier. Or the salve in his dressing room, apparently. “Regarding what?” he prompted warily.

  “I noticed earlier… Your mistress—”

  “Maria is not my mistress,” he snapped at having his suspicions confirmed. “We merely scratch an itch with each other occasionally,” he felt compelled to add.

  “Is that because her husband does not satisfy her in the bedchamber?”

  Good God…

  Alex closed his eyes in order to regather his slightly scattered wits. He could not recall, in all of his two and thirty years, ever having had a conversation such as this one with any female. Emma’s forthright manner was as close as he had ever come, and she was like a sister to him.

  He opened his lids to glare down the length of the table at his ward. “What do you know of a woman’s satisfaction in the bedchamber?”

  “Miss Marchment explained—”

  “The headmistress of your school talked to you on such subjects?”

  “She did.” Amanda nodded.

  Good God. “Such as?”

  “A gentleman’s pleasure. A lady’s pleasure. How best to avoid unwanted pregnancy and still enjoy those pleasures. It was most enlightening.” His ward gave him a reassuring smile.

  “I am sure it was,” Alex answered in a strangulated voice.

  “But she made no mention of a lady shaving the hair from her mound, and I wondered if it was only married ladies—”

  “Enough!” The chair scraped noisily across the wooden floor behind Alex as he rose to his feet.

  “But—”

  “Go to your room, Amanda,” he instructed furiously, having decided he would reply to Sophia Marchment’s letter first thing in the morning. At which time, he would inform her of his displeasure as to the subjects she taught her young and impressionable students.

  “Have I said something wrong?” Tears glistened in those pale turquoise eyes. “Miss Marchment spoke only to the older students on those subject, and only with the best of intentions, I assure you. Several of the girls were already betrothed, their weddings to take place this summer, and Miss Marchment wished them to be prepared for all aspects of marriage—”

  “You will not mention that lady’s name to me again!” Alex thundered, at a total loss as to how to deal with such frankness coming from the lips of an eighteen—almost nineteen—year-old girl. As if her being almost nineteen made the slightest bit of difference to the indelicacy of her conversation!

  Amanda was no longer a girl but a fully grown woman. One, moreover, who knew more about sexual matters, it seemed, than many a dowager did after fifty years of marriage to the same gentleman.

  And to think Alex was responsible for not only sending Amanda to that school but for leaving her there for three years without once checking on the headmistress or the subjects she taught. The school had been recommended to Alex, and as he had been returning to his regiment the following day, he’d hired a maid to accompany Amanda to Portsmouth. He realized now, too late, that he should have visited the school himself, at least once, during these past three years.

  He sighed heavily. “It is not your fault, Amanda, but my own for having neglected you and the education you were receiving. I will endeavor to do better in that regard in future.” Although there was no way he could teach Amanda to unlearn the intimate information now in her possession.

  Alex waited until Amanda had left the dining room before moving to the tray of drinks on the side table and pouring himself a much-needed glass of brandy.

  He understood the reasoning behind Sophia Marchment’s decision to enlighten her older students as to what took place in the marriage bed, even if he could not condone it.

  Alex had seen so many of the young ladies of Society marry without the full knowledge of what the physical side of that marriage truly entailed, and that an equal number of gentlemen preferred their wives not be privy to that information. His own father, for one. Maria’s husband was another example of one of those gentlemen in that Dalrimple required his wife to be as much a lady in the bedchamber as she was in the drawing room. Which was the reason Maria came to Alex for the pleasure and release her husband denied her.

  His brother, Adam, was not one of those gentlemen, thank God, and he and Emma obviously enjoyed the happiness of a full and mutually enjoyable marriage.

  Was Sophia Marchment wrong to want the same for her students?

  Probably not.

  But it was still disconcerting for Alex to have his young ward talk of such intimate matters at the dinner table, and without showing the least hesitation or embarrassment.

  Chapter 4

  Alex’s worry that his sister-in-law and Amanda might become thick as thieves within minutes of meeting each other was proven correct over the next few days.

  Emma had arrived in the afternoon the day after their conversation, and Alex had duly introduced the two women. After that initial visit, Emma had started to arrive shortly after breakfast, when Hawkwood was in the habit of spending the morning in his study with his secretary, and then the two ladies would disappear from the house together, Alex presumed to the shops in search of gowns and the necessary slippers and gloves to go with them. Certainly bills from haberdashers and seamstresses had started to arrive at the house for Alex to pay.

  He had also noticed that slowly, and barely noticeably at first, his house was taking on some sort of order. Furniture was put in its proper place, vases of flowers appeared in the entrance hall and drawing room, fires were lit in the necessary rooms if it was a chilly evening.

  As Alex had still not found the time to engage a butler, he could only assume this to be Amanda’s doing.

  Irritating, but at the same time, it meant Alex didn’t have to deal with such mundane tasks himself, and it was certainly more comfortable within Wetherby House than prior to Amanda’s arrival.

  Indeed, as there had been no further reason for Alex to spank Amanda, he could all too easily become accustomed to the comfort of having a woman in the house.

  Which was the reason he had arranged to meet with Maria Dalrimple again this evening, for the first time since that ill-fated afternoon in Ale
x’s bedchamber. Her husband was being kept late in the house tonight to attend a vote, and as Alex’s own household now included his ward, he and Maria had arranged to meet at Dalrimple House during her husband’s absence.

  And if Alex felt a slight discomfort at that fact after receiving a look of reproof from Amanda when he informed her he would not be home for dinner this evening, then he had no intention of allowing her to see it. No young chit was going to guilt him into foregoing an evening of release with such a willing partner as Maria Dalrimple. Bad enough he’d had to continue to resort to using his own hand for relief these past four days and nights.

  “At what time might I expect you home, my lord?” his ward enquired evenly.

  Alex narrowed his eyes at that lack of emotion in Amanda’s voice. “None of your damned business.” Good God, this was worse than having a parent keeping account of his comings and goings. Of which he had neither, both his mother and his father having died some years ago. He had been very fond of his mother and missed her dearly, but he did not regret the death of his father in the slightest.

  Her brows rose. “I merely enquired so that I know how late I must stay up in order to let you back into the house.”

  What the hell…? “Have one of the footmen do it.”

  “That is hardly fair to either of them when they are already performing the task of butler, as well as their own duties, during the day.”

  Bugger fair!

  Alex was not going to crawl back into the house in the early hours of the morning, completely knackered from an excess of sex, only to find his disapproving ward waiting up for him.

  “Just leave the door unlocked, and I will let myself in,” he dismissed as he straightened the cuff of his evening shirt to an appropriate length beneath the sleeve of his tailored jacket.

  She gave a shake of her head. “That would leave the house vulnerable to the invasion of robbers and the like.”

  Alex’s temper, rarely roused, was rising quickly to the surface in the face of Amanda’s reproofs, albeit delivered in that reasoning tone. He knew his ward really was not that innocent or averse to rebuking him for his behavior.