Daring Fantasies of a Noble Lady

by Olivia Bennet

  The overall effect was magical–at least Alexander thought so. The castle was three stories tall with four wings: west, east, north, and south. For sure, the house was large enough, and the walls were thick enough that she could probably scream and moan to her heart’s content. Alexandra blushed just thinking of it.

  Percy smiled down at her. “Do you like it?”

  She glanced coyly up at him, “It’s perfect.”

  “Well, then, my Lady, allow me to fulfill a time-honored tradition.”

  She looked puzzled, “What–” she began to say before he scooped her up in his arms. She squealed with surprise holding on for dear life to his neck as he carried her across the threshold as easily as if she weighed nothing.

  * * *

  The house was airy and silent. The front door closed with a soft whisper of air. Percy’s hand slid into the crook of her elbow.

  “There’s some wine upstairs. Shall we go and open it?”

  Upstairs. In the bedchambers. He wasn’t wasting any time, but then why should he? They were married, and it was perfectly natural for a husband to want to bed his wife. And Percy clearly did, very much so.

  It was just…Alexandra was nervous.

  “With a shy glance, trying to look confident and ready, she replied, “Of course.” He led the way up the stairs.

  She was not surprised to discover that the bedchamber was large and bright. Its windows offered a vista onto fields of wheat, barley, clover and a labyrinth of bushes and grasses. She could imagine them taking walks as they discussed their future or just enjoyed each other’s company.

  She hoped Percy enjoyed her company.

  “Alexandra.” Percy’s voice interrupted her thoughts, and she turned to face him. “I’ve no idea why the house and grounds are of such fascination to you at the moment, but perhaps I can tempt you with a glass of wine instead?” He was smiling that little barely-there quirk of the lips that she found so mysterious and alluring but relayed the message clear enough.

  “I... Yes, of course.”

  She felt her own mouth curving into a sheepish smile and lowered herself gracefully onto the loveseat by the bed as Percy uncorked the bottle that sat on the stand. He poured two glasses.

  He handed one to her; they no longer had any excuse to focus their attention elsewhere. Her hand dropped back to her side, as his eyes locked on hers, as hers were on his.

  There was much she could discuss with him. Did he believe any of the rude talk spread about her? Did he marry her out of pity or out of love? She could bring up the weather, but none of it seemed appropriate. No matter the reasons, they were legally wed, and Alexandra’s duty was to make the best of it. She just wished she knew what he was thinking.

  Percy took a sip of the wine. His eyes closed and he cleared his throat, which made Alexandra grip on her glass tighten her. She didn’t know whether it was with fear or arousal.

  “This is Turkish wine. I had it imported. Tried to sell it to the taverns but it was too fancy for them. It wasn’t fancy enough for the court or the clubs, so I stored the lot in my cellars.” He gave her an ironic glance, “Just one of the many ideas that did not quite go as planned.”

  “Well…I am sure you learned from the experience and will conduct better surveys before you embark on your next venture.”

  Percy laughed, “Indeed. I see you have a keenly-educated mind beneath the veneer of dutiful demure loveliness; I do hope I can count on it to curb my more…enthusiastic impulses.”

  Alexandra smiled, oddly pleased by his observation, “It is only my duty to help my husband in any way that I can.”

  It gave her a thrill to say the word husband. Percy was her husband. And soon, he would make her his, completely and forever. She could hardly wait.

  Chapter 16

  The Art of Communion

  Percy watched Alexandra, noticing that she had, at some point since their arrival, removed her veil. She was now gathering her hair into her hand and lifting it away from her neck as she turned her back toward him.

  “Would you unhook me?”

  “Unhook? Oh! Oh… Yes, of course.” He reached for her and then realized the glass of wine was still in his hand. He almost dropped it in his haste to comply. He placed it back on the stand and reached for her dress. His hands were uncharacteristically shaky. While he might have unhooked many a dress, this was his first time for a lady who was also his wife.

  The dress was confusing with its various lacings and eyelets. However, he eventually got the way of it and unhooked it all the way to her waist. Underneath, he saw more fabric, more laces.

  Heavens, how do ladies ever get themselves dressed in the morning?

  Alexandra turned. “Thank you,” she murmured, brushing a kiss against his cheek.

  * * *

  Alexandra felt her face heat up as he watched her with heavy-lidded eyes. She was unable to avert her gaze as she stepped away from him, shrugging the gown down over her shoulders, and then stepping deftly out of it.

  It was the most undressed she had been in front of anyone–save Constance–in a long time. She gathered up her dress and draped it over the loveseat beside the bed. Her petticoat quickly joined it.

  Slowly, she wheeled around to face him again, though there was hardly any more of her to see with the dress off. She still felt terribly exposed as his breath caught in his throat.

  Her stays were fashioned from the same fabric as her wedding dress and edged in black–they were part of her trousseau. Beneath her dress was a white silk chemise while her stockings had some of the Greenwick crest emblazoned on the ankles. She saw that he noticed, as she loosened her garters to take them off and gave him a small smile.

  Her throat felt incredibly dry, and she remembered that there was one thing they needed to discuss before they went any further. She swallowed, cleared her throat, trying to get some moisture back into it, but her voice came out hoarse despite her efforts.

  “Percy, there’s something I need to tell you. I’m... I’ve never... That is to say, I haven’t... I’ve never, well, done this before. You should know that Francis didn’t touch me at all.”

  She felt better as soon as it was out, and now she just had to look away until the fire in her cheeks subsided again. Percy didn’t speak, and when she ventured a look back up again, he was smiling.

  It was not an unkind smile, but there was definitely amusement in his eyes. Her back stiffened.

  “I know, my love.”

  She stared at him feeling a barrage of questions, protestations, insistent replies tangling up behind her tongue. All she managed was to sputter in surprise.

  He closed the distance between them, and the amusement was gone when he continued. “I know because you would not have consented to marry me otherwise. You would have felt duty bound to inform me that you were…damaged goods–not that I would ever think of you in such a way. And you forget I am the one who found you. I know perfectly well what state you were in, and it wasn’t dishabille.”

  She stretched one hand letting her fingers toy with the lapel of his jacket, then slid flat and pressed against his chest.

  “I...” her voice was even huskier than before, caught somewhere in her spinning mind. He knew. He had guessed, and he didn’t mind? Perhaps he had not asked her to wed him–solely–for pity at her compromised state.

  “There is no need for further discussion on the matter,” he declared, and the smile was back–a little amused, a little exasperated. “It is behind us. Let us look forward to a happy, prosperous and fruitful union.”

  At first, she did not comprehend the last thing he said, but then it came to her, and she not to hide her blushes from him again. She would love nothing more than to bear his children, but she could admit to nerves about the act that produced them.

  She did not want to close her eyes and think of England. She wanted to take in every last detail and have it be enjoyable. She hoped that was a possibility at least.

  He pulled her against him, har
d. His mouth found hers, and the first touch was hesitant, gentle, she parted her lips and invited him in. He tasted like wine and desire and… home.

  When they broke apart, his breath gusted heavily over her, and his eyes, so close to hers, were dark and full of need.

  “I love you,” she whispered. “I want you to make love to me. Show me what to do.”

  Percy held out his hands to her.

  Alexandra leaned in so that she could feel every bit of him like a living, breathing hot brand embedded against her from bosom to nethers. She could feel his...Alexandra blushed just to think of it. She squirmed tentatively and he gasped, his shaft jerked and jumped at her.

  She was tempted to escape it, but his strong hands restrained her hips, firmly leaving her no choice but to stay. She took a deep breath, peering up at him from beneath her lashes.

  "Is it...am I..." She trailed off uncertainly.

  He smiled, his voice low and intimate, “You are perfect…just perfect.”

  She smiled tremulously. "Thank you," she said softly. He swooped down and claimed her mouth. She felt plundered and invaded as his tongue conquered her mouth.

  His hot tongue and soft mouth moved downward and kissed her neck, making her think that it any pain that was to come after would be worth it. His kisses alone lit her blood on fire.

  She sighed, and then moaned, louder. Embarrassed, she cut the sound off. “Forgive me,” she whispered.

  “What for?” Percy’s gentle voice bathed her with warmth as his hand cupped her cheek delicately.

  “My love, I insist you not hold back such noises. I would like to know what pleases my wife.” He kissed her warmly, softly not using either tongue or teeth. Alexandra settled back onto the bed and yielded to his nibbles on her neck and marveling at the sensations that assailed her.

  She had to hold her breath and close her eyes as his fingertips traced her collarbone. Alexandra whimpered faintly when his mouth moved to follow the trail of his palm, an answering chuckle from her husband making her shiver as he pressed his warm wet lips on her sensitive spot. She reveled in the luxurious feel of his silky blonde curls, as her hands tangled in them. Percy groaned appreciatively, his hand skating to the hem of her chemise.

  Too soon…Alexandra stiffened as his fingers curled around the edge, clearly intending to push it up her body.

  “My Duchess.” Percy pulled away to regard her face. “I will only remove this with your permission. We can leave it on if you prefer. Or I can stop this enterprise entirely.”

  “Can we stop–only for a few minutes?” Alexandra asked, hating the nerves that tossed her stomach about like a ship in a hurricane. Percy lay down carefully next to her as she blinked away tears.

  “I mean it, my love,” he murmured, leaning over to kiss her shoulder. “We will go as slowly or as fast as you want. Never fear that I will grow impatient or annoyed with you. I am the happiest man alive, for you agreed to be my wife.”

  Percy kissed her shoulder again, his hand brushing up her bare arm, feather-light softness of his strokes over warm wetness of his kiss marking her like a brand.

  “You can remove my chemise,” she said shyly, “but only if you remove your drawers. I wish for us to be bared to each other.”

  He grinned with happiness, “Ah, my brave little girl. I love you,” he said.

  Percy pulled the chemise over her bosom, and the sight of her seemed to stop his laughter cold.

  “Please sit up so I can remove this.” His voice trembled, and Alexandra obliged if only to make him smile again. Once she was naked, he allowed her to pull on the top of his drawers, adjusting himself so she could ease it over his shaft.

  Alexandra stared in unabashed interest. “It is…different than I imagined. I have never seen anything like it,” she said her breath coming short with excitement.

  Her finger reached out to touch the base before sliding up to the tip, where a clear liquid beaded like a tiny, translucent crown.

  When she smeared her finger through it curiously, his hand came to grip her wrist firmly, and he hissed between his teeth.

  He looked like he was starved, regarding her with unmitigated ardor, eliciting a full-body tremor in response. Her body was on fire just from the heat of his gaze, and if he continued to rake her with lust-filled looks, she just might be the one to devour him.

  Alexandra was feeling brave and boldly wrapped her hand around the middle of his maypole.

  “What should I do now?” she asked. Percy covered her hand with his own and moved it upwards and back down. She watched in amazement as his shaft seemed to take on a life of its own, moving in tandem with their hands, peeling away his uncircumcised skin.

  “Oh,” she said softly, continuing to stroke in the way he showed her.

  “Oh.” Percy echoed, swallowing audibly. He released her hand rather suddenly. “We have to stop now, or else things might progress too fast.” He breathed, laughing awkwardly as Alexandra reluctantly let go of him.

  She lay back, watching him, wondering what came next, her whole body straining toward him. She let her legs fall open, an invitation, feeling her body like an empty vessel, yearning to be filled.

  She closed her eyes, her senses inundated by his warm sandalwood-scented musk, as he drew closer, his body flush with hers. She reached out to touch, a wall of hard muscle trailing downward beneath her questing finger as he let her explore.

  Her other hand circled his trim waist, resting in the dip preceding the twin mounds of his haunches. Her fingers trembled with her own boldness as she squeezed and heard the small pained sound that he made against her neck. The jerking motion he made that brought his manhood into hot, urgent contact with her belly.

  “Percy,” she whispered in awe as she rubbed sinuously against him, feeling like she might be melting from the inside out. Every touch felt like a brand on her skin, every sigh a declaration, every jerk against her belly, a promise.

  He lay atop her and she widened her legs instinctively, the feel of him against her like nothing she had ever experienced before. She felt him, hot and hard, poking against her and tensed.

  “Shhh,” he soothed, rubbing softly at her arms, “It’s going to be perfect, I promise you.”

  She had no choice but to trust his word as she felt him like a hot searing brand, breaching her very core. She closed her eyes, breathing in and out, trying not to become too tense lest she run from the frightening stretch of her inner muscles; the startling propinquity of him.

  “Uh.”

  The sound escaped her even as she bit her lip, trying not to cry out. He stopped abruptly, sweat beading his brow and looked down at her, shaking his head.

  “Let it out,” he whispered, “let it out.”

  She cried out in surprise, and pain and creeping pleasure, unable to stop herself from channeling her confusion into sound. He thrust quickly forward, and she jerked as she felt a scion of hurt shoot up her spine from her centre. It faded quickly and was replaced by shifting strobes of pleasure, ebbing and flowing as he moved within her. It was a lot to take in.

  She threw her head back and cried out again and that seemed to spur him on to greater passion as he impaled her on the sheet, again and again and again.

  “Oh, my sweet Alexandra,” Percy groaned. His heavy head dropped to her shoulder, and he found it in his lithe, strong body to go ever faster. In his desperation, he rubbed against a sweet spot inside of Alexandra, and suddenly, she was a wanton woman, a woman possessed.

  “Oh!” She shrieked, nails digging into his bare shoulders. “Oh, my love, do that again, I beg you.”

  “You do not need to beg me, merely ask me. I am yours to command.”

  Concentration was the predominant expression on his face now, as he twisted his hips and returned his attention to that spot inside her.

  “Percy!” Alexandra screamed.

  “I must have died,” her husband murmured wonderingly. “I must have died and ascended to Heaven. I had only imagined my name passing fr
om your lips in this fashion when I was asleep and could not curtail the wickedness of my dreams of you.”

  “Tell me of the dreams, Your Grace,” Alexandra’s breath came in short pants as if she had been running, and not lying on her back while her husband plundered her body in powerful bursts of pleasure.

  “They are like this,” he groaned as he continued to thrust frantically in, a most maddening pattern. “You beneath me; my hands able to touch whatever they want, my lips caressing whatever they want, nothing between us anymore, no reason for me to restrain my ardent feeling for you.”

  Alexandra whimpered, and something inside of her clenched involuntarily. As her legs scrambled for purchase on the mattress. She dug her nails into his back, and her husband made a noise close to one of pain, and his hips move impossibly faster.

  “Beguile me with your tongue,” he whispered. “Let me hear your voice.”

  “I love you,” she answered. “Percy, I love you so much.”

  With a shout, his body locked above hers, hips stilling. Alexandra felt a sudden warmth spill inside her and she stilled as well as her body seemed to welcome the liquid intrusion, contracting to usher it further into her. She felt fulfilled and knew that she and her husband were finally indeed one flesh.

  She smiled at Percy, admiring the long elegant line of his neck, his face caught in ecstasy so intense it could be agony. His eyes were shut, and sweat beaded his strong brow. Alexandra wiped it away, tucking her hand in his curls...

  “I love you, too,” he said after a pause. Whatever spell had descended upon him seemed to have lifted, and the gleam in his eyes was softer than usual.

  Alexandra leaned into him, wanting to be close in every way possible and let him take her lips again. She knew now why a woman must save herself for marriage for it was only within the bounds of an institution would this excess of emotion not seem so terrifying as to cause one to run screaming for the hills.

  When they had said she would give her body to her husband, she had not known what that would mean. Now she did, and she was addicted. It pleased her greatly that they could do that again at any time they chose. Much to her disappointment, he chose that moment to pull out of her slowly, carefully. Alexandra hissed through her teeth at the renewed stinging, and the oddly sticky feeling that followed his separation from her. Who could have known how…viscid it all was.