Carnal Pleasures (25 page)

Their kiss was long in length and became passionate in its intensity. Dulcie surrendered to him, feeling his desire a hard lump against her stomach as a bevy of sensations bombarded her senses. Her hands reached around his waist, under his jacket, and pulled him closer. Her lips reached for his. Each of them slowly inhaled, neither wanting to destroy the magical moment on the balcony

Griff pulled Dulcie’s tongue into his mouth, teasing it, dancing with it erotically, until he heard a soft groan escape her. His lust grew stronger, flamed hotter. It would be a long time before he made love to a woman again—any woman. A
very
long time. At this precise moment, he wanted and needed Dulcie as much as if he were dying of thirst on the red, arid plains of Spain.

Dammit! There are too many clothes hindering us! I want her undressed, naked!

He ground his erection against her lower body, imagining himself buried in her clinging wetness.

“God help me,” he rasped out, “I don’t want to go and leave you, Dulcie!” He lowered his mouth to devour her mouth again.

A soft, muffled sob escaped from her, and her hold on him tightened. ”Hold me, Griff. Hold me tight,” she begged, her voice sounding as panicky as he felt.

Just then, a male voice cut across the darkened balcony. “I say, Griff, is that you out here?” The shadow of a figure in eveningwear darkened the doorway from the ballroom. The music had stopped, though Griff and Dulcie never heard it cease. Sounds of couples breaking up the sets and chitchatting as the ball was ending finally broke into the kissing couple’s delirious haze.

Griff sprang away from their embrace and straightened his cravat and jacket.

Dulcie wavered on her feet for a moment until Griff grabbed her elbow to steady her. Caught unawares, she rapidly fluttered her fan, desire and wild temptation still raging through her veins when she and Griff kissed. Passion slowly diminished into a simmering afterglow.

“Rand? We were just coming inside,” Griff lied.

“I believe the countess is looking for you,” the viscount said. “She called for her carriage ten minutes ago and is about to leave.”

“Bloody hell,” Griff murmured between his teeth, praying that his breeches didn’t show evidence of his arousal. “Is that right, Rand? Then we shall have to hurry,” he said, taking his time before placing Dulcie’s hand back on his forearm. He escorted her through the doorway, pausing next to his friend. “I’ll stop by tomorrow, Rand,” Griff said, turning to bow to Desdemona as he and Dulcie said their goodnights. Locating the countess in the overflowing foyer, they followed her to the waiting carriage.

Chapter Twenty-Five

It was after two o’clock in the morning when the carriage rolled to a halt in front of Eberley House and the three occupants went into the mansion.

“I believe you acted quite properly at the ball tonight, for a change,” the countess said to Dulcie with a slight sneer, hesitating outside her bedchamber on the second floor. “After you are married, I’ll be happy to see you gone. Then you may return to your hoydenish ways, rusticating in that humdrum estate of your father’s in Surrey.”

Dulcie said nothing, but kept walking down the hall to her room.

Agina tapped Griff lightly on the arm. “I will see you tomorrow, Spencer.”

“Of course, Aunt,” he said.

Saying goodnight, all three snapped the door latches behind them.

Trent had dozed in Agina’s room. Now she helped undress the countess, locking the door between the countess’s and Griff’s dressing room after putting Agina’s ballgown and underpinnings away.

“Shall I leave you alone, love?” Trent asked, waiting to be dismissed by the woman she loved who was ten years her junior.

Agina beckoned to her friend and lover, and Trent moved to enfold Agina in her arms.

“No, don’t leave me, not tonight, Trent. Our plans at last have come to fruition, and I wish to relax and enjoy them. With you. Come make love to me, Trent, my dearest one.”

Trent slipped the silky robe off of Agina, removing the garment from her lover’s waiting body very slowly, sinuously, her avid gaze devouring the younger woman’s beauty. Agina was still quite lovely and desirable, even in her mid-thirties.

The countess stood unmoving, her eyes heavy-lidded, hands at her sides, waiting for the lovemaking to begin. Trent reached out to caress the pointed, snowy mounds, the ruby nipples already pouting in anticipation of been suckled. The maid made love to them, rubbing hard with thumbs, pinching the nubs into further prominence as Agina moaned, eyes closed, feeling the pleasure taking hold. She clasped the maid’s experienced hands against her generous breasts even though the erotic manipulations were growing rougher instead of being gentle.

“Harder. More,” she gasped, her breath growing sharper, faster, quickening as burgeoning lust began to peak.

Trent pulled on the protuberant nipples until they stretched to long points. Then she bent to lave each one with her tongue, sucked on them hard, then bit each one with sharp teeth. Agina gripped the woman’s head at the temples, holding her tight against her breasts, letting her teeth painfully titillate her budded nipples. When Agina released a loud groan of ecstasy, Trent moved to nip at the softer, pebbled flesh arousing the red cherry pits even more.

The two women embraced, then kissed passionately, their tongues tangling together. Trent led a naked Agina to the bed, blankets having been folded back, ready for sleep.

Agina slid onto the mattress. Trent was in the midst of removing her own clothes, her body, with its broad frame and coarse features, muscular arms and legs, and the heavy patch of dark, wiry, pubic hair displaying the dominant half of the lesbian pair. The nipples of her large breasts had hardened, too, and she tweaked them to arouse herself further. She inhaled the musky odor of female arousal emanating from between her own thighs, and knew the identical, womanly perfume exuded from Agina’s wet pussy. The maid’s mouth began to water. She salivated for the salty taste of her lover’s flow, hungry to eat her pussy, plunge her strong, well-trained tongue into the countess’s hot, waiting core until her lover orgasmed. Again and again. Only then would she masturbate to satisfy herself.

* * * *

Griff heard the garbled noises coming from the countess’s bedchamber, and knew what was occurring next door. If an erotic vision of the two woman making love turned his stomach, it otherwise enhanced the imagination of what he wanted for himself. He wanted Dulcie. He wanted her taste in his mouth, his tongue caressing her warm skin, her innocence beguiling him a second time before he left for the Peninsula. He might come home maimed and broken, and he wanted to remember the feeling before dying, his breath pumping out of his lungs.

Removing his evening clothes, Griff threw on a light robe. He snugged the belt tight around his middle, knotting the sash. Barefoot, he opened the door gently into the dimly lit hallway. He didn’t expect to meet anyone at this time of the night, but he hurried to Dulcie’s room, praying she hadn’t thrown the bolt. When the door pushed open, he slipped inside.

Only embers lit the fireplace. Neither Dulcie nor her maid had pulled the window drapes closed. The moon’s light still penetrated, its beams enough for him to find his way to the bed. He undid the knot, removed his robe, and dropped it onto a chair. Slowly, stealthily, tentatively, he rested a bent knee on the mattress, holding his breath, taking his time before the final move.

Griff saw Simon had awakened. He was stretched out in front of the fireplace. He lifted his head and let his tail swish, sweeping the carpet silently. But he didn’t rise. The dog exhaled audibly, closed his eyes, and laid his head down again.

“Is that you, Simon?” Dulcie mumbled, half asleep. She swung her raised head toward the fireplace. “Eek! Who’s there?” Reaching hurriedly for the spectacles lying on her night table, Dulcie plopped them onto her pert nose.

Simon jumped up, heading toward the bed, hearing his mistress’s shriek of fear.

Griff leaned over and placed a warm palm over Dulcie’s mouth, skewing the spectacles lopsidedly where they sat on her nose. “Shh, Dulcie, it’s only me. Griff.”

“Griff?” She blinked behind her crooked lenses.

He knelt on the mattress, yanked his hand away, and grabbed her shoulder. “Yes. Only me.”

“But…but what are you doing here now?” she whispered, looking up at him and straightening the spectacles on the bridge of her nose. “Is something wrong? Is the house on fire or something?”

“No, the house is not on fire.”

“What then?”

I’m on fire,
he said silently.

Dulcie pulled the blankets higher on her chest. “I don’t understand.” She got a better look when her spectacles were properly aligned. “Griff! Your chest is bare!”

That isn’t all that’s bare,
he was about to tell her.

It took him a minute to realize that words weren’t going explain his actions. He leaned closer to her. He slid a big hand around her nape and brought her mouth up to his, covering her lips with his kiss.

“Umphf!”

The spectacles were bumped off, and they landed on the coverlet.

Griff muffled Dulcie’s sharp exclamation and withdrew almost immediately, but only long enough to say, “I had to see you one more time, Dulcie, after our kiss on the balcony.”

Without asking permission, he gathered her into his embrace and lifted her against his chest, pulling her up, both of them now kneeling in the middle of the bed.

“Gr-iff?”

“Don’t tell me no, Dulcie. I-I didn’t plan to see you after the ball, but…well, I have things to finish before I go, and I wanted to say a proper good-bye. I need to…”

He suddenly loosened his hold. “Well, maybe this is a bad idea, after all.”

Within a second or two, Dulcie threw her arms around his neck and clung to him. She kissed him with such unfettered fervor it stunned him. It felt almost the way she had when the aphrodisiac raced through her bloodstream. He licked her lips, nibbled at the corners with gentle pinches. When he felt her lips move into a smile in the midst of a kiss, and her mouth softening, he did more to arouse her.

His hands caressed her, cupped her breasts over her night rail. She had no protection now, no corsets to impede his caresses as he teased her nipples into tiny, hard buds, showing her how much he lusted for her.

His kisses deepened.

She responded almost immediately.

Was she putting more ardor into her kisses?
He wondered.
Could she possibly have learned new tricks since a few hours ago?
He wanted to find out.

“I want to make love to you, Dulcie. Let me. I wanted to while we were on the balcony, and I still want to.”

She didn’t hesitate. “Oh, yes, Griff, I want you to.”

She lay in his arms pliant, warm, soft, and willing. His erection grew to its proper size, a raging rush of blood stiffening and enlarging his cock within seconds. But first, he wanted to savor more of her kisses, inhale her bodily perfume, taste her skin, devour her woman’s sensuality—before burying himself inside her.

Griff helped Dulcie remove her nightclothes, leaving her naked. She seemed uncomfortable until he told her how lovely she was, repeating how she intrigued him right from the beginning.

“Your skin glows, Dulcie,” he said. “I never saw anyone who looked so beautiful in silvery moonlight the way you do.”

All of her physical enhancements, especially her long, curvaceous legs, were enticing, alluring, strengthened from daily exercise. While they toured London, Dulcie had told Griff that she and Simon walked and rambled over the Surrey hills most every day in good weather, visited her father’s tenant families, and mentioned again being fond of the gardener’s son. Aware of what Dulcie told him about Denny Wall, he was still part of her coming of age, as well as her childhood. A twinge of unreasonable jealousy had settled in Griff’s gut.

Griff nuzzled the velvety skin of Dulcie’s neck, ran his warm lips along a collarbone and down one arm to her fingertips. He grabbed her hand and sucked on her fingers until he saw her smile in the wavering light of the moon.

He left her fingertips and made his way up to her lips for another session of passionate kisses. He was filled with thoughts of being with her for the past week. Desire had grown and escalated over that period. Now he was bursting to have her, to share carnal pleasures again with her.

Griff moved over Dulcie where she lay, resting on her torso while he teased her to responsiveness with a libertine’s experienced lips and caresses. Soon, she writhed restlessly beneath him; she made him harder, his penis pulsing wildly.

He sucked on her nipples until she groaned softly and gripped his head to hold him to her bosom. He raised his head and saw her eyes were shut tight and watched her head swivel side to side on the pillows. Her hips pumped gently against his. He dragged his lips lower to tease her navel, sticking his wet tongue in and out of the small depression.

As his lust demanded more, Griff grew ravenous, savoring his erotic thoughts about laving and devouring the more intimate parts of her body he could reach with his tongue. He lifted on his elbows, next to her thighs, moved her thighs apart, and went down on her before she had a chance to stop him. He swiped his tongue along her cleft, and she jerked up off the mattress.

“Oohh! Gr-ifff, oh no!”

“Dulcie! Let me do this!” he commanded, pressing her back down. “Let me love you! Every part of you that I want to touch and taste is delicious, sweetheart.” He plied her further with more of his heated kisses, until she finally relaxed. He rubbed a talented finger against her swollen sheath. When she didn’t protest, he continued caressing until she pressed her mound upward, pleading for more.

Dulcie’s clenched fingers opened and closed on the mattress next to her. “Yes. Oh my, yes, Griff. But, help me…I want…oh, God!”

He knew she was drenched with sexual juices, slick and hot, gushing from the opening of her vagina. He gently pushed a searching finger inside, then a second one, and began to stroke its walls.

“Dulcie, let yourself come! Get what you want! Do it for me, love, for me!”