Chapter One #2
At her words, a curious release rushed through her. Good Lord, she was really going to do this.
“Excellent.” He stepped forward, close enough to touch her.
She almost took a step back. He was tall, at least half a foot taller than she. His hand snaked around her neck, cupping her nape with cool fingers. Casually, he took the liberty, and she allowed it though she should object, but this too familiar touch made her breathless...expectant.
“What is it, exactly, you are hoping to learn?” His thumb gently rubbed her skin, toying with the loose strands escaping her upswept hair.
A shiver ran through her, leaving goose flesh in its wake. Should she stop him? Did she want to?
“I…well, I was hoping—” Nerves would not prevent her. Not when she had come this far. Straightening her spine, she looked him in the eye. “I wish to know carnal pleasure. Both to receive and to give.”
That cold, almost beautiful face remained impassive. She didn’t know why she was surprised. “To what end?”
She frowned. “End?”
“No matter.” He took a step away from her, as if he needed the distance to catalogue something about her only he perceived. With the move, his hand dropped from her skin. She couldn’t tell if what she felt was relief or a longing for more.
Moments passed, that impassive gaze weighing heavy upon her. An overwhelming urge to twist her fingers assaulted her, but what if her fidgeting made him refuse?
He seemed to make some decision. “I shall show you carnal pleasure, madam. As you say, both to receive and to give. However, pregnancy should be avoided at all costs.” His eyes flickered, the first sign of something resembling emotion crossing his face.
“I will not marry you, no matter the circumstance.”
Well, of course he wouldn’t. She wouldn’t wed him either. In any event, conception was not a concern for her, not after a marriage that had never yielded—
Good Lord. He spoke of practical application. He spoke of touching and kissing and— Was it warmer in here of a sudden?
He continued with barely a pause. “Actual penetration will be avoided. While many people extol the virtues of withdrawal, I remain unconvinced. We will discuss methods of contraception during your education, but the most effective method is always avoidance. You are in agreement?”
Still confused but now with cheeks aflame, Elizabeth nodded. In all her life, no one had ever spoken so frankly. This, combined with his matter-of-fact manner and lack of emotion, banished any lingering apprehension and left only the excitement. Glorious, thrilling excitement.
“Excellent.” Stepping close to her once more, he brushed his hand from her neck to her shoulder, the back of his fingers now warm against her skin. “Shall we begin?”
“Begin?” Blood beat a furious tattoo, the pounding of her heart frantic.
“Mayhap a demonstration?” The words sent shivers down her spine, gathering low in her belly.
Her flesh prickled and heated, his voice a whisper against her skin.
Never could she remember feeling like this, though she’d some notion of its cause.
During her marriage, and of course on those pitiful forays into wickedness, she had felt something similar, but never this intense, this needful.
What strange quirk of nature allowed her to want this man she had barely met?
His hand slid from her shoulder to her waist. Resting there a moment, the warmth of his touch lulled her, his fingers splayed wide against the small of her back. A slight nudge, and then he pulled her into him, his hold strong where before it had been lax.
Balance gone, she could only grip his shoulders and hope she didn’t fall, but then his tongue traced her ear and with it, all thought dissolved.
She bit her lip, barely noticing the sharp pain.
Instead, she registered the hardness of his body through the cushioning of her clothing, the feel of his legs between hers.
Uneven breath dragged through her lungs, her breasts pressing against him with every draw.
With a mouth suddenly gone dry, she stared at his lips. Would his kiss be the sweet giddiness of champagne bubbles? Or the rich headiness of blood-red wine?
“Would you like a demonstration?” he reiterated, his voice wrapping around her, just as she had known it would. Deep. Husky. Mesmerising. “Tell me.” His lips traced the cord in her neck.
“Y-yes.” The word stumbled out, made hoarse by a tone she almost didn’t recognise as her own. His hand still rested on the small of her back, heavy and warm through layers of clothing. What would it feel like if those layers were removed? If his naked flesh were against hers?
“As your expectations were for a verbal tutorial, we shall begin with such.” His lips brushed over her ear.
“First, we must determine if my touch is something you desire. Do you want my hand on your skin, my lips tracing its path?” One hand cupped her shoulder, its twin gently trailing up her back and then down, up and down, up…
. “How will you react? Will you shrink from me or will you drag me against your skin, writhing as I leave no part of you in want of my flesh against yours?”
As he formed the sentences, she couldn’t look away from his lips, their shape, the movement as he enunciated. Something tugged at her deep inside.
“Will you arch against me as I kiss you? Gasp as my tongue traces your nipple? Will your breasts be so sensitive I can make you come just from caressing them, my fingers plucking at your nipples, the pleasure almost exquisitely painful?”
The world narrowed, containing only him and his words. His rich voice seduced her even as his hands stayed motionless on her body, burning through the layers of her clothing. She wanted to beg him to touch her, caress her, anything to force a distraction from the images he painted.
“I’d trace the line of your collarbone with my tongue, burying my face in your neck to nip and bite.
Then I’d explore the delights between your thighs, my hand, my fingers circling closer, ever closer to where you were desperate for them to be.
My thumb would trace over you and you’d drench me, telling me you want me, my cock inside you, deep and hard, and I’d make you come like that, with my thumb against your clitoris as I thrust my fingers inside you, knowing you want my cock but tormenting you with the substitute. ”
Elizabeth’s imagination ran rife and almost she felt him there, between her thighs. Some of his words were foreign, but he left her in no doubt of their meaning. This was what he’d show her? This was what he’d teach?
“I’d bury my face between your thighs, tasting what my fingers had explored.
I’d make you come that way. Then I’d make you take my cock in your mouth, watching as you gave me pleasure as I had given you.
And then….” He roughly cupped her chin. Ice blue eyes burned into hers. “I’d do it all over again.”
It was too much. Every part of her ached. She was wet, swollen, her nipples tight, her mouth dry, her breath catching. She wanted him closer, touching her. She wanted it so badly and with nothing more than words he had done this, created this need inside her.
And then, with no warning, he was no longer near.
She almost stumbled. A chill rushed through her as the warmth of his body disappeared. Taking a shuddering breath, she wrapped her arms about herself, still dazed from his verbal seduction.
That had been…. It was indescribable.
A stupid grin pulled at her. Well, that cemented it. Decidedly, she had chosen well to pursue this course. Regaining a semblance of control, she turned to face him.
Her smile died.
His expression was still dispassionate. His breathing still even. His words, those beautiful words that had conjured such desire in her, had not disturbed his cold beauty.
They had meant absolutely nothing to him.
Embarrassment suffused her, the contrast between her reaction and his too great. Of course they had meant nothing. They were a demonstration of his skill, nothing more. What must he think of her?
“That is what I can expect?” she said, hoping for dispassion yet knowing she’d failed miserably.
“Somewhat.” Good Lord, his voice was as unaffected as when they had begun. “It is, of course, more titillating in practice.”
Smiling weakly, she attempted to ignore her traitorous body. Lord, let it not be something she had to repeat any time soon. Even swallowing reminded her of the heat still coursing through her, of breasts too sensitive against her bodice, at the ache between her thighs.
“We will begin three days hence, after the dinner hour. A carriage will be sent for you. I presume the madam knows of your address?”
Dumbly, she nodded. His hands were clasped behind his back, his stance indolent. He appeared bored. Was he bored? Why had he even agreed?
He continued without pause. “As I’m sure you are cognizant of your reputation, we will not continue our lessons at La Belle. My town house is far enough away from prying eyes to keep your reputation relatively intact.” He raised a brow, as if daring her to disagree.
Like a fool, Elizabeth nodded again. There seemed little more to say.
Having obtained her acquiescence, he bowed sharply and departed.
Left alone, the import of what she’d just experienced hit her.
Legs shaking, she lowered herself to the chaise.
She had been seduced. In a brothel. By a man she had only just met.
Dear God, she didn’t even know his name.
Only now, when he had left, did she realise she knew nothing about him. What did that make her?
She stood, fairly vaulting from the chaise.
It made her exactly as she was before. She refused to feel ashamed.
Gathering her cloak about her, she pulled the hood sharply over her head to conceal her face.
Pleasure for pleasure’s sake was not a crime and this man—this beautiful, cold man—was the means to discovering that pleasure.
And, when they were done, she would thank him prettily and never have to see him again.