An Improper Seduction (8 page)

Chapter 8

Later that night, Angeline paced her room swearing at herself and the all-demanding needs of her body. She ached all over and still she wanted more.
Of what?
she asked herself. She had relations with him; what more could there be? More of the same? She could not take it; she still could barely sit down. And their outing earlier that afternoon had not helped in spite of the fact that Aphrodite was a gentle ride.

Back and forth she went, half past eleven came and went while the desire in her body grew.
I cannot
, she told herself.
He will think he has all the power over me. I cannot let him know I need more.

Finally losing her battle for the third time, she hied off to the cottage, enraged once again at the need the marquess had induced in her.

As on the night before, she slammed the door open and stormed in, then stopped dead in her tracks. Geoffrey stood across the room, his back to her, stark naked. She could see the strength of his body in every bared muscle and sinew. His shoulders were broad, his waist tapered, his hips lean, and his backside tight and muscled. He was an Adonis and she wanted to run her hands over every masculine inch of him.

She blushed at the thought of exactly which inches came to mind.

He was occupied with some activity, his left hand holding a bowl near his waist, his right arm moving vigorously.

“Welcome, my dear, you do not disappoint,” his voice filled with smugness.

“Blast you, Geoffrey. What have you done to me that I cannot resist returning to you?” she demanded.

“Only introduced you to the ways of the flesh, my angel. I promised you I would be a good teacher. Do you find me lacking?” His face was all leer when he turned around to face her in his blatant nudity, his sex rock hard and protruding forward to taunt her.

Angeline’s breath caught in her throat as her mind relived the activities she had shared with his rampant sexual organ. She blushed. She heated. Her eyes rose to his, all green with unmistakable desire and amusement.

“Lesson Three, my dear, please disrobe. Your clothes will only get in the way and I would not want to muss them,” he ordered as he strode to the side of the bed. He stood still, watching as her fingers hesitantly fumbled with her buttons. Then her gown fell to the floor. “As always, my dear, you are magnificent and well worth the wait. Now watch closely.”

With the bowl still in his left hand, he scooped up a goodly portion of its contents, then raised his eyes to her face to insure that she was paying attention.

Angeline’s eyes were locked on the lower part of the marquess’s anatomy. Her attention moved from his hand filled with what? White cream? Whipped cream? To his marble-hard sex. When he suddenly placed the cream upon it, she fell back against the door gasping for air.

Geoffrey set down the bowl, then lay upon the bed and continued to apply the whipped cream to his male member. “Come, my dear,” he urged her, “sit next to me on the bed.”

Hesitant, Angeline moved to sit where his empty hand, patting the blanket, indicated. She had taken her gaze away from his lower parts to concentrate upon his face.

“It is time to teach you, my angel, that there are other ways, other satisfactions, we can share. Since you are so tender, we will take a different tack tonight. Turn around, Angeline. Look at my cock. I have made it a dessert for you. Just like the strawberries this afternoon. Lick it, my love. Savor it, but you must not bite; unlike the berries, it must remain attached to my person so it can give you more pleasure later. Go ahead, Angeline,” he urged her, “suck on me, taste my cream.” Gently he pushed her back to move her downward.

Angeline was appalled and enticed all at the same time. She would never have imagined such an act in her entire life, but there she was, staring at Geoffrey’s arousal indecently swathed in her favorite concoction, whipped cream. Feeling the subtle pressure upon her back she leaned forward, watching as his sex loomed up into her vision. She opened her mouth wide, then closed her eyes as she licked the cream. She licked and licked, savoring the sweetness until her tongue came into contact with a hard, slick object. His penis. She felt him jerk as she licked him, felt his body tighten next to hers, then realized he wanted her as much as she needed him. That she had more power in this arrangement than she had ever thought possible. Each time she licked him, his body tightened. She was beginning to enjoy this newfound power.

Opening her eyes, she leaned over farther to take the whole of him into her mouth. When her lips closed around him, the groan from the other end of the bed was raw, primal. Deciding to do as she was bid, she started to suck on his sex.

“Angeline,” came the plea from the marquess. “Oh, Angeline.” He moaned as he started to massage her back, moving his hands down until he could caress the favored portion of her anatomy. Then he slid his hand between her cheeks to experience her arousal. “You are liquid for me, my angel. Are you aroused, too, by sucking my cock? I think you are. Oh, Angeline,” he gasped as her onslaught continued.

Gathering her courage, enjoying her control over him, Angeline plied her subject further. Her hand went down to grasp his ballocks, an action that generated a whole new round of expletives from her lover. She tongued, licked, sucked, fondled every hard inch of him until all the whipped cream was gone; still she did not let up.

In an unexpectedly rapid motion, Geoffrey sat up, grasped Angeline by her hips, then laid back, positioning her hips above his face, each of her knees on either side of his head. Instantaneously his tongue was upon her, licking her slit, her clitoris, and delving deeply into her.

Angeline, startled by the sudden actions and the new sensations, ceased her attentions. Moans escaped her lips as each new touch of his tongue sent shivers up her spine and desire burning through her body. “Oh, Geoffrey.
Oh!
” Her control ripped from her, she found her hips rolling and pushing against his hungry mouth. This was more than she had ever thought, this was more than she could stand. “Yes. Yes!” she urged his attentions on.

As if sensing she was near her climax, Geoffrey moved his lips to the pearl of her passion. Taking it gently in an oral embrace, he suckled it while holding her hips so she could not pull away. As her desires became more and more heated, he opened his mouth to let his tongue have at her. Licking, then suckling, and finally biting gently upon her, he forced her higher and higher.

“Oh, Geoffrey. I can’t. You mustn’t,” protested Angeline, her wantonness appalling her even as she pushed her hips closer to his mouth. The sensations were endless. The licking made her shiver. The sucking made her tremble. The biting made her body strain for release. Over and over she felt the tension build, holding herself back, not wanting him to make her lose control again. But he was too practiced and she was too new to the game.

Suddenly the climax swept over her, thrilling her, fracturing her, causing her to scream aloud with the pleasure, the intensity of it all. Gasping, gasping for breath, her body heaved and pushed over him until he stopped his tantalizing activities and she collapsed upon his chest.

Gently laying her aside upon the bed, Geoffrey got up and went to the water pitcher to pour water in the basin. He smiled in appreciation as he heard the gasps for air still coming from his lover while he washed the remains of the whipped cream from his organ and abdomen. When he was finished with his ablutions, he returned to the side of the bed to look down upon his conquest.

“How are you faring, my lovely?” he queried her as he massaged his own organ.

Angeline looked up in dazed wonder, her eyes wide, her whole body rosy. Still too exhausted and stunned to speak, she simply nodded her head and watched him hold his sex.

“I am afraid, my love, that I have yet to come to you. So if you don’t mind . . .” he said as he lay upon her, holding his weight on his elbows and positioning his throbbing sex between her legs. “I feel we have one more task to complete before we can close Lesson Three.” Then, nudging her gently apart, he eased himself home, sighing with the sensations that swept through him with the feel of her tight, wet, still palpitating sheath wrapped around him.

“Oh, Angeline, I could have you every night and never be tired of the heat of you, your wetness. I thought I might drown when you came in my face. You flooded me with your love juices and still you have more to make me feel welcome. Oh, Angeline,” his voice became rougher as he thrust deeply into her, in and out, in and out, building his own tension and bringing her, once again, to the verge.

Angeline was climbing, wanting the feeling of him, forgetting the discomfort she had earlier in the day. Now there was nothing she wanted more than to feel this man inside her, pumping into her, needing her, taking her. She spasmed once more.

With the feel of her first quickening, Geoffrey lost all control. “Angeline,” he shouted, thrusting hard and fast into her while coming to his climax. “Angeline!”

His body spent, hers spent beneath him, Geoffrey struggled for breath, holding her close while turning them both onto their sides. Brushing the hair away from her face, he kissed her tenderly while whispering, “Angeline,” with reverence.

Angeline, seemingly exhausted further by his second sexual seduction, fell soundly asleep in his arms. He held her close as the rhythm of his heart slowed. He admired her beauty, her intelligence, her strength of will. He wanted her more than he had ever wanted any woman. Each time he had her, he thought the need would ease.

But it didn’t. He would think about her, see her, touch her and the need would flood through him again.

It had never been like this before.

He doubted it would ever be like this with any other woman.

Angeline was the one. And he had never even wanted one. Never thought he could be satisfied with just one.

Would wonders never cease?

Chapter 9

After his midday meal the next day, Geoffrey headed for the stable. It was time to return to the Hartleys and Angeline.

But first he needed to learn more of the stable boy who would soon be a father whether he claimed the privilege or not.

The stable door was open and a whistled tune met his ears as he walked through the doors. A younger lad approached him but Geoffrey just nodded and shooed him away. As he walked between the stalls, he appraised the state they were in, each clean and sporting fresh hay.

Yes, his horses were well tended.

As he neared the end of the row, he found the lad brushing his stallion, the fine piece of horseflesh he rode over to Angeline’s almost every day now. Zeus was from a long line of quality breeding. It was his wish to continue that breeding here at the manse, at his home.

He cleared his throat.

The boy’s head popped up. “My lord, I did not hear you coming. I’m sorry. Did you need something?”

“Lester, is it?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Very good. I need my horse, of course. I will be going out for a while. But before I go, tell me how he fares, since he is new to your hand.”

Lester went back to his brushing. “This is the finest piece of horseflesh I ever set me eyes to, my lord. He’s strong and well formed. I would wager he’s faster than the wind and I would like nothing more than to give him a go. Of course, you ride him often enough I don’t need to. But if the time ever comes, I would be honored to let him run his paces with me on his back.”

“You have a good eye, Lester. I paid dearly for this horse, and the mare that was here not too long ago. I believe they are worth every penny. We shall see when it comes time to breed them.”

Geoffrey moved over to Zeus’s neck; with long strokes, he ran his hand over the mane. “I understand you’ve been here quite some time. You were trained by the previous ostler, no?”

“Right, my lord. He was a fine one for the horses. He must’ve been three score when he passed. He taught me much, maybe all he knew as I’ve not a problem since he’s been gone.” The lad put the brush down and headed for the tack room. Moments later, he returned with the saddle, bridle, and other equipment needed to ready the steed. “I think I got it all, or most of it anyways.”

Crooning into Zeus’s ear until the lad returned, Geoffrey thought of James, the park’s ostler. He had seen him many times when he was growing up and came to visit. In truth, the ostler had seemed old even when he was a boy, but James had been good to the horses and always kind to him. “Do you know why my cousin, Ronald, the last lord, did not hire a new ostler?”

“Not for sure, my lord. But I think he was so close to James, that was his name, he couldn’t bear to do it. James had been here all Lord Ronald’s life. He taught him to ride and to care for the horses hisself. James told me so. And, Lord Ronald was good to the horses. All of them. And James, too.” Lester bent to buckle the saddle he’d just hefted onto the horse’s back. “I just don’t think he could bear replacing him.”

“Well, I’m thinking it’s high time we have a new ostler, Lester. What think you of that?” Geoffrey stood to one side of his horse and adjusted the stirrup while the stable hand did the other.

“Yes, my lord, that’ll be good. I’d do my best for him, I would.” Lester walked around the back of Zeus and patted his hind flanks as he passed them. “Do you want me to be asking round for someone that might be looking for the job and have the right of it?”

Gently grabbing the bridle Lester had already placed in Zeus’s mouth, Geoffrey led the steed through the open door of the bay. “I do not think that necessary. I already have someone in mind.”

“Well, that would be good, my lord. Is he a local fella?”

Stopping his progress now out in the stable yard, Geoffrey turned back to look at Lester, who was walking far enough behind the horse not to be kicked. “Why, yes, Lester. I was thinking it should be you.”

Lester’s jaw dropped in amazement. “Me, my lord? You be thinkin’ it should be me?”

“Based on your training by James and how long you’ve been doing the job already, do you not think you are up to the task? Could you not use a substantial raise in pay?”

Lester shifted from one foot to the other. “Yes, my lord, I could do the job. As you’ve said, I’ve been doing it now for a number of years.”

“And, are you not training the other lad to follow in your footsteps?”

“Aye, I am, sir. I be teaching him everything James taught me as quick as he’s ready for it. He’s a good lad, he is. He’s my younger brother, Michael, you see.”

“I do see, Lester.” Geoffrey realized the boys had the same dark brown hair and brown eyes. The younger lad was shorter and much slighter in build, but he expected the boy would fill out over time as had his older brother. Lester was good-looking and Brenda could not be blamed for finding such as he attractive. Though she might have been wiser to have kept matters from getting out of hand. But he would handle that situation later. “I did not know he was your brother. He has no problem taking orders from you?”

“No, my lord. My pa left us more than ten years ago. He left me ma, younger brother, and two younger sisters. So we all work to help feed the family. The smallest is just turning ten now so she can’t do much yet. But her turn will come.”

“So you are the head of the family, Lester. And, do you not want a family of your own?”

Lester had the decency to blush. “Yes, my lord, I do. But there’s not money enough and no room at the cottage either for me to take a wife.”

“Well, lad, we will have to see what we can do about that last item. In the meantime, your wages will increase this week, as will your brother’s as I have checked the accounts and have seen no increases for services well-rendered have been given for some time.” Geoffrey mounted his horse. “We will talk again on other matters later.”

He nodded to the lad, shock still plain on his face, and headed off toward the Hartleys feeling much better for having taken a step in the right direction.

He found her in her garden. She flitted from shrub to shrub, bush to bush, removing the spent flowers, selecting only the burgeoning buds to fill her basket for arrangements in the manor. He paused to watch her, unseen behind a vine-covered trellis. How had he gotten so involved? How had she become such a need for him? Such an obsession? Years of playing the rake, keeping his emotions uninvolved, yet here he was, his groin tightening by the minute, wanting all of her, only her. Thoughts of their uninhibited lovemaking flooded his brain, assuring him she was the only woman he would ever want. His next challenge was to convince her of the same. She would not come easily to the marriage bed. She had said so herself.

“I spy a rose among the flowers,” he whispered into her ear as he came up behind her. “The loveliest of all the blooms.”

Angeline held her ground while her face flushed with color and heat. “My lord, I did not expect to see you this afternoon. You did not attend the midday meal.”

“I had business with my ostler. It could not be ignored. But I could not go the day without seeing you. After all, your father expects me to court you properly,” he murmured. “Come, sit on the bench with me so we can talk.” Taking her hand, he led her to the nearby bower.

Once seated, Geoffrey proceeded to divest her of her gadgetry. He laid her flower basket next to the bench, then her clippers upon it. He pulled on each of the fingers of her right hand, gently tugging her garden glove free. Then he moved to her left. All the while his eyes, set upon hers, were watching her response as his actions implied more intimate play.

Her hands disrobed, he took a slender wrist in each of his hands and turned the palms up. Leaning forward slightly, he pulled a hand to his lips to kiss it gently, lave it with his tongue, then did the same with the other.

Angeline tried to pull away but his grasp, though gentle, was unyielding. She looked back up into his jade-green eyes as she felt his tongue along the inside of her wrists. She gasped, then whispered, “Geoffrey, this is improper. I am unchaperoned.”

“Angeline, I hardly think the proprieties are necessary with a woman of two and thirty years. You are no schoolgirl, no longer virgin,” he told her plainly, not letting up on his lingual attentions nor his hold of her wrists.

“You hardly need remind me I am a spinster, sir,” she responded flatly.

“But I can remedy all of that, Angeline. Marry me,” he offered, his eyes direct, unflinching in their earnestness.

Angeline turned away, not wanting to show him how very tempted she was by his offer, but not wanting to be a mere convenience for him or any man. “I told you, my lord, I do not wish to marry. I have no need to. My answer is no, it will always be no,” she attested.

“But why not, Angeline? I do not need your money. You know that. If it would please you, you can split your inheritance among all our daughters; I will leave mine to our sons. You enjoy our lovemaking. I know you do, as your passion is almost boundless when I bed you. We can share an intelligent conversation. I cannot think of another woman with whom I have ever been able to speak so openly on so many different topics. Why must you be so stubborn and refuse me?”

“I have told you plainly, Geoffrey, many times. I have no need for marriage, no desire to be controlled by a man. I will not, shall not marry you,” Angeline promised in a soft, distant voice, still averting her eyes from his.

Geoffrey kissed both her palms once more, then said, “Very well, my angel, until tonight at the cottage, then.” He rose, then quickly walked away. His back ramrod straight, he never looked back.

Angeline sat there for a very long time, tears streaming down her face. Why did men not understand? Why could they not see a woman wanted more from a marriage than money and children? Though she did, at times, ache for children.

If only Geoffrey could love her, would love her, then she would gladly set her life into his hands forever. But to be just a convenience, like a valet or a butler. No, she would not be that, no matter how much her heart hurt, her body ached, for him.

When she arrived at the cottage that night, she did not enter like her usual whirlwind. The prior night had taught her much. Though Geoffrey may never love her, he definitely wanted her. His body belied it every time she came near him. And their frequent couplings had not seemed to ease the desire he felt.

Angeline could not decide if that was a good thing.

Her eyes roved all over him, taking in his strength and the utter maleness of him. He had removed all but his britches. And, he came toward her to take her into his arms. His muscles tightened round her, he placed his lips firmly upon hers and started to unbutton her gown.

Angeline melted into the feel of him, the strength of him. No longer could she deny the need she had for him every night. She now flew to his arms willingly, anxious to know what other secrets he would share with her about sex and lovemaking.

Geoffrey was bound and determined to have her one way or another. There were other plans that could be made with or without her cooperation. He would act as if nothing were amiss between them. As if he was not hurt by her refusal. And it was not any easy burden to be denied the hand of the only one he had ever asked for.

Once her clothing was on the floor around her feet, Geoffrey swept her up into his arms to carry her to the bed. He laid her down with his usual care, then stretched her arms over her head, holding them with one hand while he kissed her wildly, deeply, without restraint.

Knowing she was enthralled by his lips, Geoffrey slipped one silken cord, then another over her wrists. In seconds, she was tied to the bed. It was not until he released her arms from his grasp and she tried to wrap her arms around him that she discovered she was bound.

“Geoffrey, what have you done? Let me go. This instant. You cannot do this to me. I refuse to be held in such a way,” she screamed at him in a fevered, frantic voice.

“Too late, my angel,” Geoffrey crooned. His hand stroked down her leg to grasp her ankle only to wrap another silken cord around it and tie it to the bedstead at the foot. Striding gingerly around the bed, he caught her other leg in midair as she flailed it about, trying to escape his clutches, then tied it to the bed as well. Moving along the side of the bed he placed his fists upon his hips and leered down upon his prey.

“You look most delicious and helpless, my dear. Please, don’t struggle. The cords are soft and loosely tied but if you pull too hard you would surely hurt yourself and I would not wish that to happen. Now we are on to Lesson Four. Are you ready, my Angeline?” he asked in a most self-satisfied manner.

“You lout. You cad. You bastard. Let me go. Now. Or I shall . . . I shall . . .” fumed his unwilling captive.

“And just what shall you do, Angeline? Tell your father? I think not. Tell the local magistrate? I think not. Whom can you tell that you have been coming to my bed for days, participating in various debauched activities and only now are your sensibilities hurt?” he demanded. “Relax, my dear. I promise you shall enjoy this just as much as everything else we have done together. You have my word on it.” With that, he moved to the table to pour a glass of champagne from the bottle he had opened just prior to her arrival. Then he turned and smirked at her as he stalked to the bed.

“Would you like some refreshment, Angeline? You must be parched after all of your exertions a few minutes ago.” He sat on the bed beside her, placing his hand gently under her head and lifting it.

Angeline sipped the libation he offered, then turned her head away, remarking, “Enough. I’ve had enough. Now let me go.”

“I shall let you go, my dear. But when I am done with you, you will not have the strength to move anyhow.” He smiled warmly down at her, then turned his attention to her breasts exposed to his view, full, lush, sensitive. “Now we shall begin,” he vowed as he took the remaining champagne and drizzled it first on one nipple, then the other. “Marvelous. Look at how they tighten from the coolness of the drink.” Leaning over, he took a taut tip into his mouth, first circling the areola with his tongue, next suckling hard upon the nipple, finally nibbling ever so gently, knowing he was driving his lover wild.