Deceived (28 page)

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Authors: Bertrice Small

BOOK: Deceived
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“Three,” St. John murmured, unabashed. “The daughter of the innkeeper at the Three Swans has recently presented me with a girl child. I do acknowledge the little ones, and pay their mothers a generous yearly stipend as well as seeing to their baptisms.”
Hawkesworth laughed all the harder. “I am certain that Sir Ronald and Lady Elsie will be most impressed by your Christian charity. We get ahead of ourselves, however. First you must entice Miss Isabelle Bowen in your web of love. Once you have done that, the battle is half won.”
“And if not, I shall have to go to London to see if I can find some sweet little debutante whose down-on-her-heels but utterly old family will not blink at my reputation, so blinded are they by my fortune and lands.” Putting his tumbler down, he grinned at the duke. “I wish you more happiness this time, Hawkesworth, than you had with your last marriage. For all our rivalry, we are family and best friends.”
The two men shook hands, embraced, and then the duke walked with his cousin out into the afternoon, where one of the grooms stood waiting with St. John's horse. Mounting the beast, St. John gave the duke a wave, and then rode off in the direction of Primrose Court. Hawkesworth watched him for a few minutes and then returned to the house. It was time that he and his wife began getting seriously acquainted.
Peters greeted him, saying, “Her grace will not allow us to move her things into the duchess's rooms, my lord.”
“Nor should you, Peters. At least not until the rooms have been totally redecorated. You can understand that my wife would not want to sleep in the place where her sister has so recently died. Tell her servants to leave her grace's possessions where they are. I will discuss the refurbishing with my wife shortly.”
“Of course, my lord,” the butler said. “It was thoughtless of us to have attempted to move her grace under the circumstances.”
The duke hurried up the stairs to Aurora's room, but she was not there. He went to his grandmother's room, where the dowager was sleeping. Where the hell could Aurora have gone to, he wondered as he entered his own bedchamber. Then he gaped in shock. She lay curled upon a hip in the center of his bed, resting her body upon an arm and an elbow, her heart-shaped face supported in the palm of her hand. She was stark naked but for the necklace of aquamarines about her neck. A fire crackled in the fireplace, the light of the flames mingling with the light from the setting sun.
“I have decided to forgive you, Valerian,” she said, breaking the silence between them. “You were absolutely right about St. John. He is a scoundrel.” She shifted her legs just slightly, allowing him a fine view of the thick thatch of tight brown-gold curls between her thighs. Then she ran the tip of her tongue along the top of her lip.
“How in God's name did you manage to preserve your virginity so long?” he demanded of her. He shrugged off his coat, and, unbuttoning his waistcoat, lay the two garments upon a chair. Moving back to the bedroom door as he undid his cambric shirt, he turned the lock, and spinning about, yanked off the shirt, saying, “I shall need your help with my boots, Aurora. Come here,” he commanded, and watched with pleasure as she slid off the bed and walked toward him.
“What shall I do, my lord?” she murmured.
Seating himself in a chair, he said, “Straddle one of my legs, and then pull the boot off, my precious.” Then he grinned, delighted at the sight of her pretty bottom. It was as round as a peach, and when she grasped his right boot and began to pull, he was unable to resist placing his left foot upon her and and pushing gently.
“Ooofff!” she grunted as the first boot slid off, and she set it aside, bestriding his other leg and drawing off the second boot.
He peeled his stockings off, and when he stood again, she began to undo his breeches. Shaking his head, he said, “If I had not sprung you myself, I should be in serious doubt as to your chastity.”
“Don't you want to make love to me?” she said softly.
“Yes, I do,” he admitted as she pulled the breeches over his hips, leaving him to finish the job, and slipped his drawers down to complete her task. “Tell me, did St. John light this fire in you?”
Aurora shook her head. “Since my childhood I have known how to pleasure myself,” she told him. “I am wise enough to have known that I must keep this part of my nature secret, and not be called wanton, or shame my family, but the hunger was always there. Last night you were able to satisfy that hunger. I want you to do it again!” She pressed her naked body against his, slipping her arms about his neck. “Do I shock you? Calandra, I know, was my opposite. She told me she did not like
the act.
I do, Valerian. I like it very much. Can we do it twice again? I was so surprised that you could do it twice in one night!”
He wanted to laugh. She was wonderful! Ingenuous, innocent, and knowing all in the same moment. She was a gift after his marriage to her coldhearted sister. “This passion of yours,” he said softly, his arms wrapping about her, “must be reserved for me, my precious. You do understand that, do you not?”
She nodded, and then her hand slipped down to push between them and grasp his member. “It is so hard,” she noted, and then loosed her grip upon him and began to caress it. “Do you like that as much as I like it when you stroke my breasts? You do not mind if I ask you such questions, do you? I want to please you as you have pleased me.”
“Yes,” he said slowly, “I like it when you touch me. There are other ways you can give my member pleasure besides petting it, but if you are fearful, or repulsed, I will understand.”
“How?” Her tone was filled with curiosity.
“Kneel before me,” he said softly.
“What?”
Her voice was surprised.
“Kneel before me,” he said, and when she complied with his request he took his manhood in his hand and rubbed it gently across her lips. “You can use your tongue on it, or suck on it,” he told her.
Aurora's heart was beating wildly. There was something so exciting about the forbidden, and this was certainly a forbidden thing. She touched him with just the tip of her tongue. He said nothing. Emboldened, she licked vigorously about the ruby tip of him, and when he removed his hand she bent her head slightly and licked the length of him several times. Then, unable to help herself, she opened her mouth and took him into it, her tongue working fiercely as her own excitement level rose with each passing second. He was warm and hard, and smooth. The taste of him was musky and salty. She sucked on him, and felt his fingers kneading her head, encouraging her, and then he grated at her to cease, and when she could not seem to stop, he pulled her away, yanking her up to face him once again.
“Would you swallow me whole, my precious?” he demanded.
“Yes!” she said, her eyes bright with her desire.
He laughed, amazed at her capacity for lust. “Turnabout is but fair play, Aurora,” he told her. “Let me show you.” Taking her by the hand, he drew her over to the bed, sitting her down so that her legs were hanging over. “Lay back,” he said, and when she had, he knelt and slowly drew her legs down and over his shoulders.
“What are you doing?” she cried out nervously.
He did not answer her, instead burying his face in the soft nest of curls and kissing her plump, warm mound. She did not protest, instead sighing with obvious pleasure. He then parted her nether lips with his two thumbs and touched her little pleasure button with just the tip of his tongue. He heard her draw a sharp breath, and smiled to himself. With his whole tongue he slowly licked the coral walls of her love grotto, pushing his tongue into her channel, withdrawing it to return to her pleasure button, which he then began to sweetly torture.
Aurora could not restrain herself, and she moaned with open enjoyment. “Ohhhh, Valerian, that is absolutely wicked. Don't stop. I beg you! Please, don't stop! I shall die of delight!
Oh! Oh! Oh!”
Her love juices began to flow, and he lapped them up eagerly. “So you like it, you little wanton,” he growled at her, and then he was mounting her and pushing himself into her. “Do you like this too, my precious?” He thrust hard, and she half sobbed, “
Yes!
” and hearing her, he began a fierce rhythm, thrusting and withdrawing, thrusting and withdrawing, until her head was thrashing wildly. “Put your legs about me,” he said in a deep tone, and when she obeyed he was able to push deeper into her hot, wet sheath.
She could feel him inside her, throbbing and pulsing. He was such a fierce but tender lover, and she wanted him to go on forever. “Don't stop,” she begged him.
“Don't stop!”
Her nails began to rake down his back as the pleasure overtook her. He groaned against her mouth, his tongue, ripe with her musk, arousing her as she had never before been aroused. Her body had joined him in the primitive passion, pushing up to meet his downward thrust. Her legs were wrapped tightly about his torso. I am going to die, she thought as she felt herself beginning to soar and spin out of control. Stars and moons were exploding in her head, and the pleasure was tearing her apart. She cried aloud.
He didn't want to stop. She was the most exciting woman he had ever known. He desired her above all women. He wanted her so badly that even in the act of possessing her his loins yet ached with longing. He was on the brink of death, and he didn't care. It was worth it. It had all been worth it just to possess that incredible creature who was his wife. He was falling into darkest space, and yet he could feel his manhood erupting its juices to flood her secret garden with life. He collapsed.
Together they lay gasping, struggling for breath, and when at last they had managed to quiet their raging hearts, Valerian Hawkesworth gathered Aurora into his arms, weakly drew the coverlet over them, and they slept.
They were awakened by a discreet knocking at the door, and heard Browne's voice calling. “My lord. My lord.”
“Yes, what is it?” the duke asked sleepily.
“It is after nine o'clock, my lord. Will you and her ladyship be wanting supper before the staff retires?” the valet said.
“Bring a tray, whatever is available, and champagne too,” Valerian Hawkesworth responded. “You may leave it outside the door, Browne. Just knock to let us know it's there.”
“Yes, my lord.” They heard the retreating footsteps.
“Do you think the servants are shocked?” Aurora wondered.
“Probably not,” he said. “Why should they be? It is our wedding night, after all, and you, my dear duchess, are absolutely delicious!” He kissed her a deep, slow kiss. “I think we might manage it more than twice tonight, my precious. Would you like that?”
She grinned at him mischievously. “I believe that you are utterly insatiable, my lord,” she teased.
“As are you, madam,” he agreed calmly, and bending, nibbled at her ear. “You must be satisfied with me, however, Aurora. I will not countenance your taking lovers, as do so many fashionable women.”
“Good God, Valerian, what do you take me for? Why on earth would I want a lover? I was not raised to be loose. A woman cleaves to her husband, unless, of course, he turns out to be an utter cad, in which case she poisons him quickly and becomes a merry widow,” she finished with a wicked smile. Then she took his hand, and separating his fingers, began to suck them slowly, one by one. Her tongue rotated in leisurely fashion about each digit, and then she would draw upon the finger so strongly that he thought she might devour it.
“Fashionable women,” he murmured, bending to nuzzle in the cleft between her two round little breasts, “take and discard lovers with little thought, as do their husbands. Had Calandra not been so coldhearted, I believe she would have followed the fashion quite willingly.”
“I am not my sister, as you have already discovered,” Aurora said, “and I have no need for another man in my bed as long as you are so attentive. You had best not take a mistress, my lord. Besides, if I never see London again, it will be too soon. I love living at Hawkes Hill, and I shall be most happy to remain here for the rest of my life.” Finished playing with his fingers, she nipped at his knuckles.
With startling swiftness he pinioned her beneath him and kissed her until she was quite breathless and laughing. “Wanton witch,” he accused her, but he was smiling.
She felt him already roused against her thigh, and said, “You are impatient, Valerian. I did not expect such passion from you.”
“I cannot wait, my precious,” he apologized, pushing himself into her wet, hot sheath. “Will you forgive me?” He began to move on her.
“Ummmmmmm,” she replied, and she wrapped her legs about his torso once again. “Make me fly again, Valerian, and I will excuse this unseemly haste and your lack of finesse.
Oh! Oh! Yessssss!”
“Little bitch,” he groaned against her mouth. “I cannot get enough of you,
I cannot!”
He was a sorcerer, she thought as she began to lose control of herself once more. His touch inflamed. His hard body excited her more than anything else she had ever known. Take a lover? Dear heaven, what other man could please her so greatly? Could reach so deeply into her heart and soul that she was overwhelmed with a plethora of emotions she hardly understood, and which threatened to overwhelm her. She would never take a lover. Husbands could be such fools, she considered as she soared from the pinnacle once more. “Ahhhhhhhh, my darling!” she cried.

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