Chapter Fifteen
She allowed him to guide her, leaning back against him and enjoying the decadent feel of his body pressing against her back. He was solid and warm, and he smelled of oranges and cloves and a hint of bay.
They stopped and his hands dropped to her shoulders.
Her eyes had been closed behind his fingers. Now she opened them and looked around.
The walls were green as the sitting room had been, but the enamel had been replaced by coverings of padded baize, attached to the plaster with brass studs.
‘It is an exceptionally quiet room because of the hangings,’ he said.
She stared at the satin-covered bed which dominated the room. ‘I suspect it is good for sleeping.’
‘And other things,’ he agreed. ‘You can scream all you want here and no one on the street will ever know.’
‘Am I likely to?’ she said, her nervousness returning.
‘We shall see,’ he replied, then said, ‘Look up.’
She laughed. She could not help it. The entire ceiling was covered with a mural, nymphs and satyrs engaged in acts of unrestrained debauchery around a gathering of cherubs that framed a mirror above the bed. ‘Did you…’ she choked.
‘It was this way when I rented the place,’ he replied. ‘But I will admit, its presence was a deciding factor in my signing the lease.’ Then, his right hand slid off her shoulder to cup her breast.
She froze for a moment, shocked. Then leaned back again and relaxed into his touch. What was the point of being seduced by a rake if it was some mundane deflowering on a white cotton sheet with the lights extinguished? If she was going to fall from grace she wanted to land with a crash.
A crash that would not be heard outside of this room, at least.
‘You are wearing the pin I gave you,’ he said, against her ear. ‘I like it when you do that. It excites me.’ His other hand undid a button on her spencer.
‘An ant excites you,’ she said, trying to work out the logistics in a joining of two, or was it three, mythological creatures in the painting above her.
‘It has been a year,’ he said, undoing the rest of the buttons.
‘At this point, nearly everything excites me.’ He released her long enough to pull the jacket from her shoulders and placed it on a chair.
Then, he stood behind her again and returned to his fondling while he nibbled her neck.
His right hand slid lower to her belly, pressing their hips together.
‘Oh my,’ she said as a particularly well-endowed satyr leered down at her from the ceiling.
‘If you see anything that interests you?’ He bit her shoulder. ‘Just let me know.’
‘I couldn’t begin…’ she said, shaking her head. There was nothing familiar in the painting above her. Every one of them made her feel confused and strange. Not bad, precisely. But definitely different than she’d felt before seeing them.
‘Then I shall be your sommelier,’ he said.
‘I will offer pleasures. You may take them or leave them, as you see fit.’ He reached between them and undid the fastenings at the back of her gown, pushing it off her shoulders and letting it fall to the floor.
Then, he took her hand and let her step out of it before taking it and hanging it on a peg in the wardrobe so it would not wrinkle.
She was still wearing a bonnet and gloves, and her shoes, which seemed very silly given the circumstances. So she dispensed with them, arranging them as neatly as he had the rest of her clothing.
He was being very careful. She had imagined that, with a rake, there would be more rending of garments. Of course, she usually imagined that there would be more resisting on the part of the girl involved. She should not judge.
He returned and stood in front of her, glanced down at her body and smiled. Then, he looked back up into her face, touching her cheek with his hand. ‘When I look into your eyes, I am undone.’ He lowered his mouth to cover hers and she opened to his kiss.
It was different than it had been the last time.
A year ago, he’d been playful, teasing her into responding before she’d known what was happening.
But this kiss began slow with the barest touch of his tongue, as if it was his first. The thought made her smile.
He felt the change and responded to it, moving against her, sipping and nipping, tasting and savoring.
She kissed him back, just as carefully, her tongue sliding against his and into his mouth.
The feeling was safe and exciting all at once, as if the fragile barriers between them were fading away.
She gave a hazy thought to the pictures above them, and the very real joining that was to come.
The pleasure of the kiss was sweet and delicious. But it was not enough. She wanted more.
The gentle exploration grew to something more demanding. He pressed a hand to the back of her neck, urging her on until she was licking into him and nibbling his lips, dizzy with the need to know him.
His hands moved down her back to the ties of her petticoat and the laces of her stays, stripping her, pushing them out of the way until she stood in shift and stockings, her arms wrapped around his neck, rubbing her nearly naked body against him.
Then, he pulled away, in a flurry of breathless bites on her swollen lips.
‘I am wearing far too much clothing. Let us take care of that, shall we?’ He lifted her hands to the knot of his cravat and went to work on the buttons of his waistcoat, peeling off his coat and throwing it aside with none of the gentleness he’d used on her garments.
She rushed as well, pulling at knots, tugging his shirt free of his breeches and drawing it up and over his head, then arching her back as he seized her by the waist and buried his face in her breasts.
He tugged the shift down and grazed her nipples with his teeth before taking them, one after the other, into his mouth with long, greedy pulls.
Desire flowed in her like blood, rushing to the places he kissed and down again to pool between her legs, leaving her wet and wanting.
As if from a great distance, she heard herself making small, needy noises, pleading for things she did not know she wanted.
He answered with a growl and walked back with her towards the bed, pushing her down on it as he hurried to strip away the last of his clothes.
Then, he was on the mattress with her, pushing her legs apart and burying his face between them.
As his hands undid her garters and smoothed her stockings down her legs, his mouth was doing unspeakable things to her body, kissing places she had never thought a man could kiss.
She stared up at the ceiling and saw her own reflection in the mirror and the knowing smiles of the cherubs as he took her, his tongue darting into her before his teeth found a place that made every muscle in her body jump.
His hands slid back up her thighs and his fingers were on her, then in her, moving in time to the thrust of his tongue.
The pressure grew. And suddenly, she knew why he’d talked of screaming.
She was making sounds she’d never heard before as he took her, played with her, ravished her.
The woman she could see in the mirror, naked and writhing in ecstasy, one hand on her lover’s neck and the other playing with her own breasts, was as wanton as any of the nymphs on the ceiling.
Suddenly, it was all too much. She was sure, if this did not end immediately, she would shatter like glass.
But before she could tell him to stop, the change she was fearing happened and it was not her that broke, it was whatever bonds had tethered her to the earth.
She was free for the first time in her life, flying, floating, drifting back to earth as light as a feather in a breeze.
She could feel Sebastian stroking her hip, murmuring endearments against the inside of her thigh. Then, she felt him move, sliding up, stretching himself to cover her body with his. ‘I do not want to hurt you,’ he said, stroking her hair. ‘But someone will. And it must be me.’
She looked at the ceiling again, at the creatures cavorting across it and knew that, no matter how she felt now, they had just begun. Underneath the delicious sensations she had experienced, there was a deep emptiness that needed filling, and desire coiling inside her readying for another release.
She wrapped her arms around him and spread her legs, staring into the mirror at her hands stroking down his naked back to grasp his hips. ‘Make me yours.’
She closed her eyes, but only for a moment. Then, she opened them and watched their reflection, and the muscles of his bum flexing as he moved. He was touching her again, stretching, shifting, nudging.
It hurt. Just as he said it would.
But they were one, and that made it better. He kissed her and let out a shaky sigh and moving very slowly, sucking his breath back through his teeth in a way that made her wonder if he hurt, as well. ‘You are heaven,’ he whispered. ‘As I always knew you would be. An angel.’
The pain was fading. In its place, she felt a strange sense of triumph.
Lust was supposed to be a sin. As were greed, avarice and sloth.
She felt them all, mixed with so much sweet pleasure.
If she had to deny herself these feelings, she did not want to be an angel, anymore. She wanted to be wicked.
She wrapped her legs around his and sank her fingers into his flesh, urging him on. Then, she rode the feeling as he thrust deep, surprised at how good it felt to be taken. And there were so many pictures above her. So many ways that they could join. She wanted to try them all.
She thrust up with her hips, trying to keep time with him as her muscles clenched around him and she lost herself in the feeling. Then, he was faltering, shuddering, crying out as he said she might, and finally, collapsing on top of her, spent.
They rested for a time, and then he kissed her light and playful, his body still a part of her. Then, he smiled at her, eyes sparkling and said, ‘Tell me, sweet. How do you like being a fallen woman?’