Authors: Enticed
“Oh, Patrick, I’ve always loved you,” and their mouths fused again.
He caught her in his arms and lifted her against his heart. Desire overpowered him, his hands were hard and fierce and her sweet, moist mouth trembled as she whispered, “Your embrace will crush me.”
He set her down gently. “Forgive me, darling. It won’t be like last time. I promise I won’t hurt you. I want you to be my wife. You belong to me and no other. Repeat with me a simple marriage vow, ‘I receive you as mine.’”
She clasped him close, beset by sudden fear. “What if Simon returns?”
He said simply, “I’ll kill him!”
Kitty changed into her one pretty gown. It was pale lavender silk which flowed and billowed sensuously as she walked.
Mrs. Hobson wrung her hands, exclaiming over and over that she’d never be able to feed such a fine gentleman, until finally Patrick took her by the shoulders and said kindly but firmly, “We don’t care what we eat, ma’am, all we want is to be together. Nothing else matters.”
She bobbed a curtsy and disappeared.
The day had been warm, but as the evening lengthened into shadow, the air emitted a slight chill, so Patrick lit a fire. There was nothing stronger than tea to drink, so after dinner they sat before the fire and Kitty poured Patrick a cup and handed it across to him, thinking all the while, if only we could do this for the rest of our lives.
“Darling, I have to tell you right away that when Terry found me I was about to leave for Liverpool. My ship was to sail tomorrow for America.”
“Oh, no,” she whispered in despair.
“Love, don’t be upset. I’ll put off the sailing for a week. I’ve thought of taking you with me, it would be paradise, but too selfish of me. You could come only as my mistress while you still are married. That would distress you and leave you open to gossip and insult. When I come back, we’ll be married properly,” he said confidently.
“But how can that be?” she asked uncertainly. “You don’t really mean to kill Simon, do you?”
He avoided answering her directly, as he knew that was exactly what he would do if Simon stood in their way. He waved his hand airily, “There are many ways: divorce, annulment….”
“But … to get an annulment you have to be able to prove … that your marriage never was consummated….”
He stiffened. “My God, Kitty, he didn’t touch you, did he?” he demanded fiercely.
“No, he didn’t, but you did!”
He relaxed and laughed at her fears. “My darling, you don’t suppose I’d let you face the indignity of an examination, do you? You are so innocent! Money is simply exchanged for the certificate you would need to obtain the annulment.”
“You mean a bribe?” she asked.
“Of course!” He sat back in his chair like a young, bronzed god setting the world straight.
He was triumphant and high-spirited, and he exuded confidence. Under this man’s protection she would never be afraid again.
“I’ll be going to Bagatelle Plantation in the Carolinas for their cotton crop, and then on to New York to the Hind Food Company offices. Someday I hope to be president of our American branch. How would you like to live on Millionaires’ Row in New York?”
“I could be happy anywhere with you,” she said shyly.
“You are my darling little girl, but you mustn’t look at me like that or we won’t get any farther with our plans.”
“How long will you be away, Patrick?”
“That’s the devil of it. You can never be sure with an ocean voyage, but if I’m lucky I could be back in four months. You can’t stay here, of course; you must go to Julia in London. I’ll explain to her that you will be coming and
you must have no contact whatsoever with Simon. I’ll be right back.” Her eyes widened in surprise when he returned and held out a gun to her. “It’s a Colt .45, recently designed in London. I shall teach you how to use it.”
“I’m not sure I want it, Patrick. Guns are for killing,” she protested.
“It’s simply for your protection. My God, how can I bear to leave you, knowing how vulnerable you will be?” he demanded.
“If it will make you feel easier, I will keep it by me, of course.”
“Darling,” he whispered. He set down the gun on the tea table and pulled out a long leather wallet. “I’ve some money for you here. Five hundred pounds is all I have with me. But that might meet your needs. If not, Julia has a line of credit at one of my banks and I’ll instruct her to let you have whatever you need.”
“Five hundred pounds is more than I’ve ever seen in my whole life,” Kitty exclaimed.
“It may sound like a lot, but I’ll be gone for months, sweetheart, so you will have to be very careful with it.”
She took the bank notes and put them in her reticule. As she moved he thought how slender and delicate her wrists and ankles were. She was so exquisitely fragile, he knew he would need a will of iron to keep from ravishing her the moment he touched her. Desire almost overpowered him. His need for her was so intense it was more pain than pleasure.
She stood hesitant in the gathering shadows. Her small foot peeped from the perfumed mystery of her silken skirts and he was transfixed by the spell of her haunting beauty. The next instant she was in his arms. He lifted his hands and interlaced her hair; his thumbs brushed the velvet of her cheeks. He lifted her faintly parted mouth to him.
“Darling Kitty,” he murmured and she looked into his
deep blue eyes with apprehension. “I receive you as mine,” he whispered. An ancient unsolved mystery, a fragile, haunting, whispered vow.
“I won’t unless you wish it, beloved,” he swore, but it took every ounce of willpower he possessed.
“I’m finished with childhood. I want to be a woman,” she whispered back.
He lifted her tenderly and carried her up the stairs. One eyebrow, like a raven’s wing, went up to question which was her chamber, and she indicated with her eyes which door to open. Instinct told him she was far too shy to make the first move, so without hesitation he undid the small lavender buttons of her gown. He drew aside the fabric and kissed her on the curves of her breasts. She loved the look of adoration on his face as he slipped off her gown and undergarments and lifted her onto the wide bed. The room was filled with moonlight so he didn’t light the candles out of consideration for her, but he promised himself they would make love with every light blazing before their week was up. He took off his tiepin and cuff links and placed them on the table by the bed next to a little pot of violet-scented face cream. He undressed quickly and slipped in beside her, gathering her into a very tender embrace. He knew that tonight he held the key to Kitty’s future enjoyment of her own sexuality. Gently, he drew back the cover and gazed at her. Her nipples and aureoles were such a deep bronze color, they excited him until the blood pounded in his head and made him dizzy.
“My God, kitten, you are so lovely,” he breathed hoarsely. “I must have been mad not to have married you long ago.”
“Why didn’t you?” she chided him lovingly.
He stroked her shoulders and breasts and gazed at her thoughtfully.
“I think you were too exotic for me to think of as a wife.
A man would only think of you in terms of a mistress, because of your beauty. When you look at me imperiously, you could be Russian; the black clouds of your hair and slant of your eyes remind me of an Oriental. You have the dainty hands and feet of a Balinese temple dancer.”
She was in a dreamlike trance as his words revealed his enchantment with her. “At other times you are so sleek and pantherlike, you could even have a drop of black blood in you; Egyptian, perhaps.”
She smiled up at him. “It’s Gypsy, my darling.”
“My exciting, exotic Irish Gypsy.” He lowered his mouth to hers worshipfully. He kissed her eyelids, her temples, her throat and lingered over each delicate breast. He wooed her with honeyed words as his hands moved across her waist, tracing small circles around her navel. He stroked her thighs and finally the soft black curls on her mound of Venus. She drew in her breath quickly at his touch, but before she could protest he said, “Shh, my lovely, try to relax.” She was fever-dry to his touch, so he used a tiny drop of the violet-scented cream and with sensitive fingertips traced the folds between her legs. “Tell me what you like, darling,” he urged, and his fingers gently probed again. “Does that give you pleasure?”
“Mmmm.”
He increased the tempo of his movements and could tell she was becoming aroused. “Does that excite you, sweet? It excites me!”
She moaned with pleasure, and with deft fingertips he brought her to climax. She arched against his hand as the strange sensation reached all the way to her toes. It was the first time she had ever experienced sensual pleasure and she was filled with the wonder of it. Patrick held her very closely and whispered such words of love, she felt her very bones would melt from the delicious sensations that swept through her.
He was in no hurry; he forced himself to savor her enjoyment without marring her pleasure with his haste. He held her to his heart and stroked her back. Her arms swept up behind his head and when she moved her body closer to fit it to his, she gasped at his enormous phallus, swollen with passion. He soothed her fears away with caresses and words of love. He began to kiss her, gently at first, then more demandingly. His skillful lovemaking worked its magic until she became aroused again, and the intensity of her mouth matched his own. Gently he placed her on her back and crouched above her in towering excitement. A searing white heat shot through him at the first contact of their bodies.
“I can’t, Patrick! You’re too big!” she cried.
“Yes, you can, darling. Open your legs. That’s right. Now kiss me.” He would not be denied now, and firmly penetrated her trembling body and achieved his heart’s desire. She was surprised to feel the delicious sensations arise again so swiftly, but this time magnified a hundred-fold. When she felt certain she could not bear such intensity one moment longer, he brought them to climax with a few swift thrusts and they lay in each other’s arms, savoring their mutual ecstasy. He cradled her possessively until they both slept.
Once, in the dark before dawn, Patrick awakened and looked down at the beloved face next to his on the pillows. Desire flared instantly through his loins. He bent his head to seek her lips, then stopped himself. He did not wish to give her a disgust of his male appetite, so sighing, he closed his eyes and willed the fire in his blood to cool.
When the morning sunlight patterned the bed with its delicious, warm rays, Kitty panicked. My God, the words he’d whispered and the things they had done seemed shocking in the light of day. He was the master and she the servant, and now that he had had his way with her, he might discard her, toss her aside with all respect gone. She wanted to bury her
blushes in the pillow but could not resist one swift glance through her lashes. Patrick was gazing at her. He adored her with his eyes. Relief swept over her. She sprang up joyously and kissed him repeatedly, saying, “Oh, Patrick, I love you.”
“Say it again, Kitty. Again and again! Foolish little darling to think you could get away from me. You are mine. Mine! I’ll keep you. You’ll never get away. Never! Never! Repeat the vow you made me. Only love me, and I’ll manage all the rest!”
Kitty was filled with such power she feared her heart would explode.
Later that morning Patrick made them fishing rods and they set off for the trout stream. They wrapped the fish in leaves and baked them to a tender golden brown. When they were finished, Kitty lay with her head in his lap. The heat made her drowsy and each time Patrick bent to kiss her, delicious sensations ran through her body, and they repeated a hundred times the whispered promise, “Tonight!” They strolled upstream to where it was dammed off a little. He urged her to swim with him, but she was too shy to strip and play in the water naked. He refused to go in without her, and pressed her so insistently she promised that she would swim with him before he went away. When their fingers touched, or their eyes met, everything was forgotten except the magic of belonging to each other. Time ceased to exist for them. Day blended slowly into night and they exulted that at last they would be sharing a bed.
In the aftermath of passion, she asked, “When it can be so beautiful, why did you ravish me that first time?”
“I was a selfish fool, my darling. I suppose I wanted to put my mark upon you so indelibly that you would always remember me even if you were with another. I wanted to master you, but I was the one who became enslaved.”
Each night it was different for them. Sometimes their love was wild and hot, almost an assault of the senses. At such times Kitty surprised him with a passionate ardor that equaled his own. Then the next evening she came to the bed shyly, in a pristine white nightgown, making her look like a young novitiate, and a tenderness swept over him, along with a deep desire to protect her always.
Sometimes they fantasized about what their married life would be like. “If we go to America, I’ll buy you a mansion on Millionaires’ Row. I’ll cover you in jewels and silks and thoroughly enjoy showing you off.”
She spoke with her lips against his, “Can I have my own carriage?”
“Lady Jane Tut,” he teased between a dozen tiny kisses.
“We’ll entertain every night. I’ll be the most famous hostess in New York,” and she traced the outline of his lip with the tip of her tongue.
“Not every night; I’ll want you to myself,” he said possessively.
“Oh, Patrick, perhaps Julia won’t want me, under the circumstances. After all, I’m still married to Simon. Julia probably will feel awkward and object to my living there.”
“My dear Kitty, I am the paymaster in that house, and I will have things exactly as I wish them.”
“Patrick,” she chided, “you are so arrogant!”
“Lord Muck, eh?” he laughed.
“Exactly!” she agreed.
“That’s not being arrogant, that’s being masterful. Let me show you,” and he pinned her beneath his body so there could be only one outcome.
One evening they discovered some Gypsies camped by the woods.
“I can dance like that. Would you like to see?” she whispered to Patrick.