Lisette

by Gayle Eden

  Marston could see her nerves battling with hungers. To ease those, Elisha let his palms feel her legs and touch her skin while she brought it up past her curls. His eyes admired everything exposed. When her thighs parted, the shape of them flanking her sex was a beautiful sight.

  Elisha had his palms at her groin when she covered his hand and brought it over to the heat of her. He kissed her while feeling her soft curls and slick heat.

  Finding no easy way to touch while in front of her, he stepped round so that he sat beside her. Where she needed the steps, he did not.

  He nibbled her neck and kissed her ear. “So warm, so soft.” Now cupping her between the legs.

  * * * *

  Lisette covered his hand, easing it up then pressing, moving it under hers, until her breath hitched while his warm finger went between the folds.

  He was kissing her nape so she could look down and watch, and at some point, he was too, but she needed release.

  She moved his hand a moment, to spread the curls with her fingers and expose the glistening flesh and swollen nub.

  “Lisette,” he whispered in a beautiful sound.

  She looked at him and saw he was watching her finger circle and glide before he nudged her hand aside and took over.

  Panting, she arched her neck and closed her eyes, holding herself open for him and moving her hips to the friction. It was building.

  She moaned. Her lashes lifted only a fraction. He was looking at her face.

  “Please, Elisha.”

  Marston kissed her deep, hard, and then eyed that face. His whole body responded to her little cry. He looked down where the pad of his finger glided over the nerves, and let it dip down into her opening.

  Biting his lip and sucking a breath inward, at the erotic feel and the look of her sex with petals held wide, the inner flesh glistening peach. His swarthy finger was making deeper and deeper forays, He felt her inner muscles squeeze around it, then heard her gasping his name, and gave her another kiss while thrusting in and out of her several times.

  “I can’t take anymore.’” She stared at him with pleading eyes, her expression pleasure pain.

  “Show me.” He was intoxicated. He had never felt so out of his head and skin in such a lust hungry way. Erotic did not begin to describe the encounter.

  Lisette was trembling. She stretched and kissed him then moved her hands away and husked, “Are you sure, I don’t want to do anything…I…can do It later…”

  He only understood half that, but was discerning enough to know the gist of it. “Show me.” He grinned sexily and winked. “Anything you want.”

  She raked her teeth over her lip. He appreciated the feeling, as she could not stop trembling—he was trembling too, but did not think she had noticed yet. She turned aside a moment and kissed him, letting her hand massage his thigh, coming closer to his cock every time. When the kiss ended, she stared at him and managed, “It won’t offend me if you join me.”

  He blinked.

  She expounded, and seemed somewhat shy all of the sudden. “You can touch yourself.” Her breath rushed out. “Or I will touch you.”

  He would die for it—give his breath that very moment for her touch on him. However, he wanted something more from her. He could wait.

  Elisha lifted her hand, kissed it and husked, “Let’s pleasure you.”

  Releasing a sigh, she scooted up in the bed and he followed, but sat opposite, so his fingers could caress that secret place.

  Marston could also see everything, and experience exquisite torture watching what his fingers did. Carefully thrusting in out of the sleek heat, he sensed the moment and withdrew them. He was watching her part the folds and expose the glistening bud. He rubbed it, the skin firmed and she grew slicker. Her climax was a thing of beauty, skin flushing, back arching, her lashes fluttering—the long whispered sigh that came before her mmm sound of delicious languor. The shudders spread, her eyes glittered.

  And he got to witness—every second of it.

  * * * *

  Lisette lifted her lashes the moment he dipped his head. Before she could close her legs, his lips sweetly kissed several times between the lips of her sex.

  She was watching when he raised and he licked his lips. She eased the gown down and rolled into him. Elisha gathered her. He held her for some time, stroking her back and hip in long strokes, before she sat up and then eased off the bed.

  Feeling the tingle lingering from his supple lips when she walked to collect her robe, she slid it on and tried to repair her hair but the pens were missing.

  He followed and moved her hands away, taking the rest out and finger coming it, before he gathered her and whispered in her ear, “Thank you. I am up for being your play mate any time.”

  She laughed breathless and eased back to regard him. “So long as it’s kept between us.”

  “Of course.” He touched her mouth. “You’re beautiful, sensual, and lovely.”

  “You managed to surprise me.”

  He cocked his brow.

  She flushed. “I never thought you the type who would—care for erotic play or pleasure.”

  “I care for you, Lisette.” He saw her stiffen and amended. “I enjoy your touch and kiss, the look of your body, the beauty of your breasts and sex. I enjoyed most particularly—your climax.”

  “Umm. Me too.” She laughed and released him. Half way to the door she turned. “Are you sure I can’t…” her eyes went to his groin...

  He whispered, “Next time. Hopefully, if there is to be one?”

  “How long are you here?”

  “Only this week.”

  She nodded. Her gaze went over him. “I’ll send a note and we can meet?” Her brow arched.

  “I shall look forward to it.”

  She slipped out.

  He went to the bed, falling on it, laying there, breathing deep with his eyes closed. It was scented from her perfume, and sex. He undid the latches of his trousers, still with eyes closed and nose full of her bouquet—freeing his cock, Elisha climaxed on the first stroke.

  Chapter Four

  Lisette awoke clear-headed. So clear, in fact, she groaned and covered her eyes before getting up, and scrambling into her gown. Dressed, she splashed her face, combed her hair, and tied it back—hurrying downstairs, in hopes, they could depart without her seeing him.

  “Where is everyone?”

  Everyone was at breakfast, the maid said.

  She joined him with a too chatty, “Good morning. Lord, what a night. With that rain I slept like the dead.”

  “As did I.” Marston intoned.

  She took a seat and eyed the Viscount, who was cutting his ham and appeared completely normal.

  “The sun is out, a good breeze. Should dry up in a day or two.” Monty said.

  There was conversation and she was glad for it while drinking coffee, not eating much, a bit amazed that Marston could look so hard faced and normal. Glad of course, but she was not able to pull it off.

  In time, they were leaving, and Lisette was first in the coach. She had murmured something to Marston but did not recall what.

  Pretending to sleep during the short trip, at the Manor, she went inside to the usual racket—this time the twins were running about, and all the animals were cutting up. While Deme explained their staying over, something her mama expected their good sense to make them do, she slipped up and asked one of the maids to prepare her a bath.

  Sunk into it a bit later, hearing the muffled sounds of the house but in private, she thought of the marks, small ones, on her neck and breast. No use lying to herself. She had done it. She had not gone up there to take it that far. But then—how could she know his touch and kiss would arouse her that much? How could she guess his dark masculinity and sweetly coaxing permission would stir her so deeply?

  Dipping under the water, she held her breath, then emerged later and shifted her legs, feeling the softest kiss on her tender nerves between them. She had not thought him a sensual m
an. Viewing him this morning, he did not look like one. Everything, lips, those eyes, and the way he breathed on her skin….

  Bloody hell. She had been ready for a long time to find a lover, had jested about an adventurous one to Haven and Juliette. But that was because she knew many men did not pleasure women. She certainly was not interested in being with someone who did not. She had an experience with that sort and told him bluntly to go bugger himself. She knew many wives accepted it as their lot, but thanks to her Mama’s talks, and what she saw at the salon, she also knew if one found the right lover, everything was mutual because the attractions were. Some men enjoyed women and wanted them to enjoy pleasures.

  An hour later, Lisette was dressed and to take her mind of Marston, she played hoops with the girls then went to the stables and groomed some of the horses, and kept herself busy.

  * * * *

  Elisha decided she was not going to send him a note. He figured she had regrets. He suspected—she had not meant to lose her head.

  She regretted it. With him.

  He went out with Monty to inspect some of the property after the storm, and liking Montgomery very much, they had interesting conversation. He particularly enjoyed hearing the man talk of his years in Egypt. He spoke often of his friend Jahi, whom Marston recalled seeing in London. The man taught now, in Egypt, and was betrothed to a high-ranking woman he cherished.

  At some stage, Monty was speaking of how he and Juliette came to wed. It was story Marston observed, that the Marquis conveyed with a multitude of expressions and inflections, from pensive to passionate, to at last grinning unabashed that he was the most fortunate man on earth. It was clear that he encouraged whatever his wife’s interests were, and clear too, that he felt a kind of profound love and a unique bond with her.

  Eventually it was nearly his last day and to say he was chaffing was an understatement. Elisha walked the garden path, smoked a cheroot, wondering, replaying everything, and decided he had not fully convinced her he could be trusted. He bloody wished Smith were there. No. That would not get her to trust him either. He bloody had to do it on his own. He had to have time with her to accomplish it.

  “Note for you, sir.”

  “Thank you.” He crushed the cheroot and took it from the servant, reading it quickly before he tucked it in his jacket pocket.

  Forcing his heart to calm, his adrenalin to calm too, Marston found Monty and Juliette in the sitting room

  “I thought I might explore the local village before my stay is over. Might I trouble you for a mount?”

  “Yes of course.” Monty looked up. “Take the muscled bay you rode the other day. Do visit the bookshop whilst there. You’ll find some treasures, I guarantee.”

  “Thank you, I shall.” He left them and went up to change, doing it quickly; dove gray trousers, white shirt, his polished boots, a riding jacket of charcoal, and over it a light caped coat. His gloves he pulled on as he hurried down the stairs, finding the groom already had the beast saddled and waiting out front.

  “Enjoy yourself,” the man said.

  “Thank you.” He smiled and dug in his heels. His whole body tightened with anticipation. Every caution in his head did not matter. She would not let him court her. She’d rejected him. She did not want marriage. But would he pass up a chance to be with her? Bloody hell no.

  The village had much to offer and was quite bustling when he arrived. Riding though, he nodded to those who stared at him. He dismounted at the tavern she had mentioned, paying a lad coin to see to his mount.

  Striding through the door, he was immediately struck by thick smoke and the earthy scent of ale. It was noisy. He saw several of the serving wenches eyeing him.

  Elisha was looking around and spotted the archway, heading there, and passing a girl who asked his pleasure.

  “Just ale.’ He looked at her.

  She had been smiling but it faded. He watched her look him over before she turned away. It did not do much for his vanity to think even she saw something there to dislike.

  Entering the beamed room, he immediately picked Lisette out, despite her having the wide hood of her long coat up. She was leaning against the wall and nearing the far corner. She had on trousers he would guess. When he got closer, Elisha saw her hair was in a long braid.

  “Ere ye be.”

  He attended the wench and gave her coin, taking his eyes back to Lisette. “Do you wish to remain here or go elsewhere?”

  “Finish your ale, then go to the older man at the bar and request a room for a few hours. They’re used to it.”

  He looked down and saw she was handing him coin. “Let me know which one and I’ll take the back stairs and meet you.”

  ‘I’ll take care of it.” He closed her fingers on the coins and met her gaze. “I was afraid you wouldn’t see me again.”

  “I almost didn’t.”

  “My heart beat out of my chest all the way here.” He grinned.

  “Mine too.”

  He downed the ale and left her, coming back a bit later and whispering in her ear. She waited, after he left, then took those back stairs.

  The room was sparse and clean scrubbed. Daylight was clearly lighting the windows. Marston had removed his coat and the jacket. He had not thought much about what he put on, but was glad for what he did, watching her eyes go up him. She apparently liked it.

  Lisette had closed the slat door. She leaned against it, and was undoing coat latches. He crossed and moved her hands away, taking the task himself while his eyes went over her face and long braid. Under the coat, she had on snug trousers and a cream linen shirt.

  When the coat fell, it was as if something released in them both. He cupped her face and lowered his head. She rose on her tiptoes. In seconds, they were kissing, wildly, passionately. Breathing fast, fevered, her arms went round him. His hands were eventually caressing her sides and hips. She suckled his tongue; so he did sexual things with it in her mouth. Hands now firm, grasping, he lifted her and turned, blindly walking her to a bed that he doubted would hold him.

  It was low and they half fell on it, then broke apart, because it was hard as stone.

  “Bloody hell!” She chuckled and leaned up on her forearms.

  He felt as if the wind was knocked out of him, felt a moment of panic but pushed past it and laughed too.

  Her eyes went to his mouth.

  His saw it and the laughter faded.

  Their gazes clung.

  “That’s a pleasant sound.” She reached and traced his lips.

  He released a breath through his nose and rose, gently pressing her back before he was kissing her again.

  * * * *

  Lisette had done well most of the week. She had thought her mind firmly made up until it dawned on her that when he left, she likely would not see him until spring and her usual London stay.

  Once she sent the note, excitement took hold, and moments after she entered the room, looking at him in close-fitting dove trousers and white shirt, reading and hearing his eager husk below, she was melting in all the right ways. Feeling everything, she remembered tenfold.

  Now as he kissed her, his strong masculine body warm and hands feeling like heaven, she was intoxicated.

  That laugh, transformed his whole face. It was—sexual.

  Marston lifted his head.

  She gazed up at his heavy lidded gray eyes. His lips were passion swelled like her own. His well-muscled thigh was over hers.

  “Should we take our boots off?” He reached to brush a wayward strand from her temple.

  “Yes.”

  He moved and they sat opposite side, pulling off boots.

  “Why does time seem to be flying?” He asked, rolling toward her as she met him half in the middle. Their feet brushed. It should not have aroused her but it did. His scent, the feel of his muscles under her hands, stimulated her.

  “I don’t know. But we don’t have whisper this time.”

  He did that slight quirk of lips and skimmed his pal
m up from her hip to just under her breast. “I want to make the most of this encounter.” His eyes softened. “I dare not ask if I will see you in London.”

  “I don’t know.” She looked away from him.

  He offered, “Do you doubt your attraction to me now? It has always been obvious I feel such for you.”

  “No. I don’t.” She met his gaze again. “But we are still… different.” She reached and touched his hair. “Other than this…I don’t know much else. Save what you appear to be in society.”

  “If you trust me not to expose this…attraction, then I will respect that boundary. If I had wanted to compromise you or force you to accept me, Lisette. I would have arranged that at your parent’s house.”

  “True.”

  He felt relieved but in no way certain she would see him again. Elisha’s hand eased over, cupping her breast. “You lead the game and I will follow.” His thumb brushed the nipple that had instantly hardened. “You are right; I have never in my life done this, been this impulsive. Nevertheless, it excites me as much as it does you. I am no fool, Lisette, I know you fear I will use it, or read more into it. But you are a blunt speaking woman. You have invited me to play, and I am more than willing.”

  Elisha kissed her sensually after that. Doing a deep and leisurely, exploring while he pulled her shirt and camisole free, and floated his hand under it. He moaned at the feel of her skin, feeling the quiver in her stomach.

  Freeing her mouth, Elisha eased down and rolled his tongue around her nipples, spending a long time suckling and teasing her breasts—loving the sound of her sighs and moans, the sensual feel of her arching against him.

  He nuzzled her stomach and came back up for more kisses.

  They could have been anywhere and it would not have mattered. The crude tavern room was nothing. They were two lovers tasting and exploring.

  Her body hot, Lisette leaned up and pushed him back. She kissed and stroked him. Her hand covered his groin. She broke the kiss, raised, and stared at him.