Seducing Mr Storm (2 page)

Chapter Two

Susanna had tried to rationalise her instant obsession with Elijah Storm away by the time she took to the grounds for a long walk two days later. The birds sang overhead as she wandered deep into the woods, and the sun shone sporadically through the thick canopy of tree branches. Her pretty little boots had just been mended after she had worn them out walking, and they were sturdy as she lifted her skirts to climb over rocks and tree roots.

The woods meandered down to the melodic river, its little waterfall at one end swollen with the recent rainwater and filtering down through the trees musically. The river wound all the way from the Seymour estate to their new neighbour’s, then on down to the ocean, a mile away on the coast. Even from here one could smell the scent, and Susanna suddenly longed to swim in the sea. Never mind, the river would do as well. If it wasn’t too cold, she could remove her boots and stockings and paddle in the shallow water. She grinned at the fit her mother would have if she knew.

Brushing through the trees, she came upon the river and stopped dead as a sound hit her ears. She wasn’t alone. Coming from somewhere up by the riverbank she heard grunts and moans in a male voice that lifted the hair at the back of her neck and set goosepimples up and down her arms.

Susanna crept closer, staying behind tree trunks. He was there, in the clearing, holding onto an oak tree firmly with one palm, breeches pulled down around his thighs, and his other hand wrapped around his thick, straining shaft.

Elijah Storm, self-pleasuring, in the middle of the day, out in the open, on
her
land!

Her mouth gaping and her heart pounding, Susanna stealthily moved closer, peeping from behind a willow trunk. Never in her wildest imaginings had she dreamt of seeing anything so exciting, so – arousing as this.

She stared at Elijah’s manhood, an iron rod of immense proportions, thick, long, and made to satisfy. Susanna shuddered. She pressed her thighs together as a rush of moisture dampened her drawers. Elijah was as beautiful beneath his breeches as she had imagined. A neat thatch of dark hair showed through the opening to his underwear. He groaned, tugging harder and harder at his cock, its rosy head leaking a pearl drop, his fingers tight and his thighs shaking.

His other hand dipped into his linen underwear. He pulled his heavy sac free and she saw his balls were like two ripe plums, the skin pink and smooth, so different from the hairy ones she had seen on Cuthbert. Did he shave? And who for? His women? She stared at his tight, bulging sac. For a moment she imagined running her tongue over it, feeling the soft, pink skin before sucking each ball into her mouth. Oh God, it was too much. Her thoughts drove her to the very edge of lust. What about that cock? What would it feel like if he drove it deep inside her, splitting her apart and filling her full?

Susanna sagged against the tree, clutching tight, seconds away from lifting her skirts to seek her own pleasure. Still her gaze remained riveted on Elijah, who hefted and squeezed his balls with one hand while he worked his cock furiously hard with his other. He panted, mouth open, eyes squeezed shut, and then he let out a long, guttural growl that Susanna nearly answered with a moan of her own. He shot his load, thick ropes of white semen splattering the tree trunk in seemingly never-ending spurts, before he steadied himself a moment, breathing hard.

After a few seconds, he plucked a large leaf from the tree and wiped off his soiled hand. Then he tucked his equipment back into his confining breeches and fastened up. Swiftly, he strode away down river.

Susanna peeked from behind the tree until he was lost in the distance. With her heart still racing, she stepped out into the clearing, approaching the oak Elijah had been leaning against. There it was, his seed coating the rough tree bark. Susanna glanced around. Then she dipped the tip of her forefinger into one of the pools of white, brought it to her mouth, and tasted Elijah Storm.

She closed her eyes at the heady essence of him. Mr Storm was going to drive her firmly out of her mind; she was sure of it.

Susanna tried her best to cope with her mother and sister’s feverish plans for the ball at Bennet Hall for the next few days. The day loomed large over all other considerations and trips to town were undertaken, gowns and accessories ordered, jewels and shoes cleaned.

Susanna chose a demure black number because she knew it suited her hourglass figure. Cut low at the front with skirts of stiff, watered silk, her mother considered it dowdy even though Susanna thought it sophisticated and sexy to some degree. Next to Lucy’s over-the-top peach and lace number, with its gigantic ruffles that probably wouldn’t fit in the carriage, and plunging cleavage, she guessed there was no competition for ludicrous dress of the season, although the Farnham sisters from Tinsley Lodge were usually a hard act to beat.

The evening arrived and the family crammed itself into their carriage and set off down the sweeping driveway to the road. Susanna was nervous of seeing Elijah again now she’d witnessed him doing that most private of things. Perhaps he would see her guilt on her face? Perhaps it would ruin Lucy’s chances with him. Not that Susanna seriously wanted her sister to marry her depraved neighbour. What sort of life would Lucy lead with a man who masturbated on the riverbank and told scandalous tales at dinner? A hot flash of emotion flared in her belly, tightening it into knots, and she identified it reluctantly as jealousy. Please God, don’t let Mr Storm fall in love with Lucy when he could have me …

She laughed at her ludicrous thoughts.

The grounds were heaving with carriages discharging guests dripping in jewels and finery, and Elizabeth linked Lucy’s arm as they went inside, leaving Susanna to bring up the rear with her father. The vast hall was decorated in sumptuous style, a long corridor leading them into the ballroom, a band playing busily at one end and the dance floor full of couples.

Susanna recognised ladies of her acquaintance, most of them married to men she had turned down. She watched the stilted steps of the dance and wished she was anywhere but here. Preferably lying down in the woods watching birds clandestinely. Failing that, watching Mr Storm wanking clandestinely.

Lucy squealed delicately. She gripped her mother’s arm and Elizabeth straightened up, thrusting out her ample bosom as a swathe of interested observers parted to reveal Elijah Storm.

If Susanna had thought swooning was remotely proper and not for simpering girls, she might have done so when she saw Elijah in his stiff white linen and cravat, his dapper black suit, his hair all glossy and freshly trimmed so it was even shorter, to the furious whispers of those all around him.

A helpless heat rose over Susanna’s cheeks as she perused his godly countenance, fighting not to let her gaze drop to that part of him that fascinated her so.

‘Miss Seymour –’ He greeted Lucy, bowing low over her gloved hand. ‘Mrs Seymour.’ Again his lips swooped over Elizabeth’s knuckles. Susanna wasn’t wearing gloves and her palms were damp. She blotted her hand on her dress and held it out. Elijah took it, his cool fingers wrapping around it delicately, ice-blue eyes unblinkingly on hers as he once more kissed her hand, lips actually making contact. He smiled, a secretive smile that seemed to read her mind and her heart, and then he addressed Mr Seymour, suggested they furnish the ladies with some wine. The two of them wandered off towards the end of the room, leaving Lucy and Elizabeth giggling like schoolgirls and Susanna praying for the night to end soon.

She listened to her sister and mother plot and scheme over the availability of Mr Storm and his purse. Her heart sank as a waiter returned carrying four glasses of wine and, on the periphery of her vision, Elijah danced past with Sarah Farnham in his arms.

Lucy’s mouth dropped open. Her big brown eyes swam with tears. ‘Oh, fie!’ exclaimed Elizabeth, bringing her daughter’s head to her bosom while the waiter hovered nervously with the wine.

‘He’s a rake,’ Susanna said calmly. ‘I thought you knew that, Lucy. He isn’t suitable husband material.’ Only suitable masturbation material, she added silently, angry at the cad for breaking her sister’s heart. Hadn’t he virtually promised the first dance to Lucy? She took her wine from the tray and took an unladylike swig. Alcohol seemed to be the only way to get through tonight.

The four of them had moved to some seats at the edge of the dance floor when Elijah finished his dance. He glanced in their direction, quickly assessed the hostile looks and moved along, although his gaze lingered on Susanna. She wasn’t sure she had ever felt warmth toward this man but any feeling she had once been susceptible to had now vanished, replaced with cold anger. Damn him to hell. She finished her wine and excused herself to take some air.

The house was stiflingly hot that mild spring evening. She ducked into the library, glanced around the brightly lit room, and crossed the floor to unlatch a window, breathing great lungfuls of the sweet night air with relief.

She heard the door click shut behind her. She spun around to see Elijah Storm smiling at her. ‘Miss Seymour, what a lovely surprise.’

Warily, she regarded him as he approached. Propping himself on the edge of the desk, he crossed his long legs at the ankle, stretched out, his frock coat falling open to show the bulge beneath the velvet. God in heaven, he was going to be the death of her.

She swallowed, tried to keep her eyes on those crystal ones of his. ‘What do you want?’

He regarded her, head cocked. ‘You’re angry with me.’

‘You humiliated my sister.’

‘I did?’

Susanna clenched her fist. ‘Don’t play games. You promised her first dance.’

Elijah looked amused. ‘I don’t recall.’

‘Damn you, sir!’

Elijah lifted a brow. ‘Really, Miss Seymour. I should wash your mouth out with soap and water.’ His smile was sly. ‘And then put you over my knee.’

She flushed violently. ‘You should stay away from my family, Mr Storm. You’re not the sort of gentleman we wish to entertain.’

His face darkened. ‘Is that so? Do you consider yourself better than me, Miss Seymour?’

‘You know what I’m talking about. Your less than gentlemanly behaviour.’

Elijah stood upright suddenly and strode forward so he towered over her. He purred into her ear in a loud whisper. ‘Miss Seymour, I would no more wish to be wed into your common, lowly family that I would want to wed a man. In fact, I would
prefer
to wed a man. A strapping stable boy with a good behind.’

Susanna’s jaw dropped. She couldn’t countenance any more of his insulting manner. When she tried to brush past him, he caught her arm hard. ‘You, however,’ he said silkily, ‘are a different matter entirely. You have all the spunk your sister didn’t get.’

Susanna trembled in his grip. “You, sir, have all the spunk, from what I saw the other day”, she wanted to retort, but that would surely drop her to his level. His wide grin, showing his perfect, pearly teeth, suggested he read her mind anyway.

‘Indeed,’ he said, pressing her back against the window, a thigh thrusting between hers. ‘You like to look, do you not? I like that in a woman.’

She stared, quivering like a trapped bird, her face growing hotter and hotter. ‘I don’t understand,’ she tried to bluff her way out.

Elijah eased forward so she felt an unmistakeable erection against her hip and gasped aloud. ‘You like to watch,’ he repeated. ‘A man, pleasuring himself.’

Her mouth opened in a perfect O of astonishment at being caught out this way. She stammered, looking for an excuse where there was none. Elijah laughed. ‘It made me spend extra hard to know you watched me, little one. Perhaps I can give you another private show now, seeing as you’ve girded my loins good and proper this evening.’ He let her go and stepped back, wrenching open the fastenings of his breeches.

‘Sir!’ she tried to protest as all her dreams came true.

Chapter Three

Elijah grinned as he hefted his tool from his breeches. It was swollen with arousal, and as he handled it fondly with practised fingers, it grew harder still. ‘Come now, my lady,’ he said. ‘Don’t act as though you’ve never seen this before.’

Susanna cowered back against the window, hand over her mouth. Her thighs shook. Between them, she was damp. She stared at the hypnotic sight of Elijah caressing his manhood. She could clearly see the little slit at the head of his cock, how it opened as he tugged to let a pearly drop roll down his shaft. Elijah caught it with his finger. To her utter scandal, he then sucked the taste off, just as she had done at the tree, laughing when he saw her expression.

‘Oh Miss Seymour,’ he said. ‘Of course I want a lady to act like a lady, but not in private. When I’m alone with a woman I want her to tell me what she wants. I want her to be dirty, so dirty it makes my blood boil.’

She looked from his prick back up to his cool blue eyes. ‘What
I
want, Mr Storm,’ she said icily, ‘is for you to let me go.’

He laughed. ‘Am I holding you prisoner? What exactly would people say if they knew you were behind an unlocked door with a man who stroked himself for your attentions? Your reputation would be ruined.’

Susanna stalked forward, heart in her mouth, palm raised to slap his vile face. He caught her hard by the arm before she could touch him, pulled her against the length of his muscled body, cock pressing against her gown, leaving marks.

‘Now, if you were less of a lady,’ he said in a harsh whisper, ‘for sure I would bend you over this desk, lift your skirts, and give you a taste of what you so crave. But I find anticipation to be part of the fun, and I know soon you’ll be begging me for it, Miss Seymour. At that time, I’ll be happy to service your three holes any way you require.’

Susanna’s mouth dropped open in disbelief.
Three
holes? ‘You scoundrel!’ she hissed.

‘Aye,’ Elijah said. ‘A scoundrel who might have met his match.’ He pressed his lips to her temple and she shuddered at the velvet touch. He gave a low groan, increasing the friction to his cock so he tugged madly. ‘Now, where would you have me spend?’

Susanna jerked away quickly, anxious he was about to stain her gown. He merely grinned, eyes twinkling, cock rosy and straining, about to spurt. She felt her cunny clench with sudden, violent need, and bit her lip hard.

Elijah looked about him. Then he grabbed the lace handkerchief from the sleeve of her gown and held it close to the end of his cock as he gasped, bucking his hips. Susanna should have been outraged but she was too aroused. She looked at his flushed face, at the gleam of sweat on his top lip, and thought he was never more beautiful in that moment. She dropped her gaze in time to see the semen spurt from his rod, soaking the delicate lace over and over again. Elijah gave a satisfied sigh and wiped the last drops on the handkerchief. Then he folded up the little square into a neat, wet parcel and handed it to her. ‘Thank you, my dear, it was a pleasure.’

Susanna handled the soiled lace gingerly, staring at him as he fastened up quickly. Elijah winked at her and slipped through the door, leaving her standing there alone.

It was a long time before Susanna rejoined her family. Mad with arousal, she slipped out through the window and walked through the warm, fragrant grounds. Holding the wet handkerchief, she pressed it to her nose and then her mouth, licking his seed from it. She both despised and wanted the man in equal measures. He seemed to see right inside her and know what his teasing did to her, how she needed to be taught pleasure by him. She knew he was the only one to do it.

As she walked through a secluded copse, noises from the other side of the trees stopped her in her tracks. She heard heavy breathing, the rustling of clothing, and then a low, guttural groan from a man. Trying not to move a muscle, Susanna pushed aside one branch to look into the clearing beyond. It was woman on her knees, gown and chemise pulled down to bare her heaving breasts, while a man stood above her, shoving his cock down her throat.

Susanna put a hand over her mouth but didn’t draw back, riveted by the sight. There was clearly no forcing going on. The woman sucked on the man’s tool eagerly while he pumped his hips, groaning; one of her hands disappeared into the folds of her gown, moving busily. Oh God. She wondered why Elijah hadn’t attempted to put Susanna on her knees that evening. She knew deep down she would have sucked him with such gusto he would have exploded in minutes. She couldn’t think of anything she wanted to do more at that moment than have Elijah’s throbbing manhood in her mouth, hers to do with as she wanted. Stifling a soft moan, she worked a hand under her gown, into her soaked drawers, finding her slit slippery and open. She rubbed at her hard bud quickly, using her other hand over her mouth to stifle the gasps and groans she longed to spill forth as she worked her needy flesh.

The man had pulled his gleaming cock from the woman’s mouth. He rested it in the valley of her cleavage and bucked forward; his partner encouraged him, pressing her large breasts together with her hands so he had the perfect chute in which to masturbate. Susanna stared, the eroticism of this scenario driving her on further. Both the man and the woman moaned in unison and the sound sent prickles down her spine and straight to her groin where her finger worked in a blur, rubbing so she knew she’d be sore, but not caring, not when she was so close. The man shot his load at that moment, creaming the woman’s breasts, and his lover flung her head back, moaning, body shaking as clearly she climaxed too under her own hand.

Susanna let go. Her head fell back as she convulsed, trembling violently, frigging until she couldn’t take any more. She eased herself back onto the grass with a soft bump and laid there, legs splayed and skirts in disarray, her heart pounding. On the other side of the trees were soft voices and laughter, then kisses, and then the couple retreated, leaving silence. Susanna lay in no rush to move.

To her horror, as she gained the corridor to the ballroom, Sarah Farnham fell into step with her, her ostentatious pink satin gown like some gigantic puffed-up meringue.

‘Did you perchance see my dance partner, Mr Elijah Storm?’ she questioned, giddy and breathless.

‘Yes,’ said Susanna sourly and wondered what it was about herself that made Elijah want to wank in front of her but not treat her to a dance.

‘For sure he dances like an angel. I’ve heard it said he has an income of 20 thousand a year.’

‘Is the size of his purse the only thing of interest to you?’ Susanna said before she could stop herself.

Sarah’s gaze darted to hers in astonishment, then a sly smirk curled around her lips. ‘Why no, dear Susanna, I’ve heard it said the size of other things is more than a match for Mr Storm’s purse.’ She giggled as Susanna flushed, a hot flash of arousal darting to her recently sated groin as she thought of how she could verify such tales.

‘Indeed,’ she said with as much disinterest as she could muster. ‘It’s whether he knows what to do with it, though, isn’t it?’

This time it was Sarah who blushed. ‘Susanna,’ she purred, ‘you’re positively indecent.’ She linked arms with Susanna. ‘I love it.’

For the first time, Susanna looked beyond the coquettishness and outrageous gowns and sensed a kindred spirit where she had never thought to look. She smiled tentatively. ‘He’s a wicked rake, Sarah, but he knows how to make a woman’s heart flutter.’ And her other parts, she added silently.

‘Indeed. I would have to make sure one night with him would be worth being ruined for ever, though.’

Susanna’s heart sank. She said nothing further.

They made it back to the ballroom, where Susanna discovered Lucy had found a young man to dance with and Elizabeth looked less like she was sucking lemons. Sarah rejoined her sillier younger sister and Susanna sat beside her mother, surveying the room.

‘Perhaps you would care for a dance with Captain Westby?’ Elizabeth suggested. ‘He has looked your way more than once.’

Susanna shook her head. ‘I’m tired.’ Captain Westby was a fop of the highest order with a penchant for liquor, cards and – her mother would swoon to know it – other men. Susanna didn’t care either way, but … Her thoughts trailed off suddenly as she saw Elijah Storm leaning casually against the opposite wall, gaze fixed on hers. Susanna glanced around quickly, caught Captain Westby admiring her yet again, and gave him a shy smile in return. For the moment, he suited her purposes admirably. He soon took the hint and approached her.

‘Miss Seymour, you look radiant tonight,’ he said, bowing low over her hand. ‘If I may have the honour?’

‘You may,’ Susanna said coolly as her mother darted a look of confusion at her. She rose, holding the Captain’s hand all the way to the dance floor before waiting patiently for the new waltz to start. Her partner gripped her close, possessive arm around her waist. She threw Elijah a withering look as they danced past him and saw the dark expression on his face. Was he jealous? Could it be possible? Surely he’d merely been enjoying himself teasing her and didn’t actually want her for himself? But what had he said in the library? “I know soon you’ll be begging me for it, Miss Seymour. At that time, I’ll be happy to service your three holes any way you require.”

Her three holes pulsed just to recall his words. She bit her lip, holding her dance partner closer, once more feeling the never-ending arousal Elijah Storm was capable of inciting. She thought of that woman in the gardens again on her knees and imagined Elijah pushing her down to guide his solid length between her lips, using her mouth for his pleasure.

Suddenly he moved, pushing himself off the wall and striding across the dance floor with such purpose that Susanna trembled. ‘If I may cut in,’ he said to Captain Westby, his tone brooking no argument; moreover, he was six inches taller than the captain and considerably more muscular. Westby blustered a bit, looking somewhat embarrassed, then relinquished Susanna. Elijah gripped her by the waist and the hand and swept her away.

Breathless and quaking, Susanna almost tripped over her feet trying to keep up with his swift pace. The arm around her waist was like steel. His large hand splayed out over her lower back, fingers reaching to the cleft of her buttocks, resting tight.

Elijah didn’t look at her. ‘If you’re trying to make me jealous, you little minx, it worked,’ he said between his teeth.

She caught her breath. His hand slipped lower, fingers digging in so their heat seemed to burn her through layers of clothes. ‘Sir,’ she said frostily. ‘If your hand strays any lower, I’ll slap your impudent face in front of all these people.’

‘Miss Seymour,’ was his rejoinder, ‘if you don’t stop pressing yourself so suggestively against my aching prick, I’ll be forced to throw you over the nearest table and have my way with you, and all these people be damned.’

Susanna gasped. She tried to pull away and he merely laughed, crushed her closer, thrusting his erection against her groin, grinding into her with every step of the dance. The blood pulsed between her legs. Her underwear was soaked, her nipples tight and bullet hard against her dress. She could barely think for her arousal.

‘You bastard,’ she hissed under her breath.

He chuckled, leant down to her ear. ‘When you want me, just say the word,’ he whispered. ‘You know where I live.’ As the music ended, he reached down, using her as cover to adjust himself in his breeches before he stepped back, bowed, and walked away, his arousal still obvious.

Susanna made her way back to her seat on shaking legs.

‘Well,’ Elizabeth said tartly. ‘He could not shun poor Lucy any more publicly if he tried.’

Susanna didn’t speak. She didn’t trust her voice.