Serenity's Dream (3 page)

mouth and ravished it. He tugged with his teeth, eliciting deep hissing sounds from

Serenity. He licked and suckled until her nipples were distended and surely aching. He

savagely thrust two fingers into her quim, pumping her with a power that was foreign

even to him.

He felt suddenly angry and set upon. This woman had no right in his life or in

his bed and yet he'd invited her, instead of chucking her out like so much rubbish.

Maybe I'm not as jaded as I thought,
he speculated, knowing with certainty he was playing

with her much like a barn cat would tease a mouse.

"Do you like my fingers fucking you?"

"I don't know." She huffed.

"Well then, what about this?" With a forceful motion, he hilted his cock inside of

her before she knew what he was about.

"Lucien, please, you will hurt me if you keep on so."

He'd no wish to hurt her; he merely wanted to show her what she'd been

missing. What she gave up when she left him for no reason other than a refusal to fulfill

her wifely duties. She would understand what those duties entailed before he let her go

again, he vowed.

He slowed his pace and the ferocity with which he'd initially taken her. He took

her hands in his and stretched them over her head. With slow, steady strokes, he rode

her. He undulated his hips, moving with an elegant grace honed during years of

practiced seduction.

Serenity's breathing became shallow as she shifted her body to meet his. "Oh,

yes, faster, Lucien, harder."

With a sense of masculine pride, Lucien began deep, plunging strokes. In his

need to bury himself inside her as fully as possible, his hips met hers; the sound of flesh

on flesh joined their grunts and moans. His bollocks spanked her arse noisily.

"This is what it could have been like, Serenity. He punctuated each thrust with

one just a bit harder. "Do you like this,
wife
?"

Her eyes closed and her head lolled side-to-side on the pillow. "Yes."

He withdrew, and her eyes flew open.

"Roll over."

She did. With his arm under her, he pulled her up so she was on her knees, with

her bum in the air and her head resting on the pillow.

"Hold the bedstead."

She put her hands around the ornate metal.

Lucien retrieved a bottle from the drawer in the bedside table. When he was

again positioned between Serenity's legs, he nudged them wider. He then applied some

of the lavender-scented oil to the tiny pink pucker and rubbed until his finger slid into

her arse. She inhaled sharply but held fast.

"It will burn for a moment." He began to wiggle his finger, and then drew it out

and back in again, over and over. Serenity moaned seductively. He wanted to plunge

into her arse with all that was in him, and he would, but not tonight. He must take

every opportunity to prepare her.

"Do you like my fingers fucking your arse?" he whispered.

"Oh, my God, yes, Lucien."

"Would you like my cock inside you like this?"

"Yes, please."

"Soon, soon." He added another finger and continued fucking her arse as he

thrust his cock into her quim.

"Oh, my God, Lucien, yes." The feeling of fullness was heavenly. She couldn't

imagine how his cock would fit in her arse, but she was willing to try if it felt anything

close to what he was doing to her now.

As he thrust his cock inside her cunny, she gasped. He was a very large man, and

she felt like he was going to fill her to bursting. He wasn't particularly gentle, but then

she no longer wished him to be. She would take his retribution because she deserved it.

She'd learned much in ten years, not the least of which was what she'd given up

because of fear. She was no longer afraid, at least not of him, and she would prove it to

him.

Her hips began to join his rhythm. She repeatedly impaled herself on his cock

and his fingers as he flexed his hips against her bottom with increasing intensity. With

his free hand, he found her clit and with barely a touch, he sent her into a shower of

light and color. She bucked under him, but he stayed with her, pleasuring her until she

could stand no more.

He pumped with more speed, and with a shout that could have alerted Bow

Street, he pulled out of her. She felt his warm seed spray across her back.

He gasped for air and slumped beside her. She'd melted into the counterpane,

too weak to hold herself up any longer. She wanted desperately to nestle into him, but

despite the fact he lay beside her, his massive chest heaving and one arm thrown across

his eyes, she felt a huge distance between them. He looked like he'd already shut her

out.

Moments later, as she was still collecting herself, he got off the bed. He retrieved

a wet cloth from the washstand and proceeded to cleanse his drying seed from her

back.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"Come, I have a wrapper you can wear. I'll escort you to your room."

Serenity's heart sank. She'd hoped he would allow her to stay with him all night.

This was going to be a long road, but she'd no choice. She had to make this work, for

she'd nowhere else to go.

Chapter Three

After bidding Serenity a blessed sleep, he returned to his chamber, where he

paced for much of the night. He'd been led astray by his cock before and he wasn't

about to allow it to happen again. She'd grown into a rather nice looking woman, his

little wife. The problem was just that, she was his wife, with all the requisite bad

memories. Granted, it wasn't as though he'd ever loved her or she him, but it had been

rather humiliating when he bedded her and then she left for Nottinghamshire. It took a

great deal of explaining, and he took even more ribbing from Prentice Hyde and his

other friends, about his ability to keep a woman in his bed for more than one night.

Now, he'd many possibilities before him and his immediate inclination was to

send her back from whence she came and then he could go back to his life the way he'd

crafted it.

Alas, he knew he wouldn't do that, no matter how much contemplation to which

he committed himself. His hands itched to spank her, now she was of a mind to allow

such. He would mold her into the wife he wished her to be. He'd already begun the

process, and he was quite sure Serenity wouldn't be happy about what was to come.

* * * * *

"Good morning, Mrs. Damrill. I am Marjorie. Mr. Damrill has asked me to take

care of you."

"Good morning, Marjorie."

"I have ordered a bath and when we are finished here, Mr. Damrill wishes to see

you."

Several minutes later, two young footmen delivered her bath, and she was able

to relax in delicious rosewater-scented luxury. As she soaked, she couldn't help but

ponder how thoughtful it was Lucien would have ordered such for her. While she

bathed, Marjorie busied herself by setting out clothing.

When the water grew tepid, Marjorie helped her from the tub and dried her.

"Please, Mrs. Damrill, go lie on the bed and spread your legs wide for me."

"I beg your pardon."

"I have instructions from Mr. Damrill. I must shave you, as your husband does

not like feminine hair."

Serenity did not move. She had suffered many humiliations in her life, but what

Lucien was suggesting at the hands of her new lady's maid was beyond the pale. There

were many things she needed to learn about her husband, but a shaved mons wasn't

something she could have ever guessed he'd desire.

"Mrs. Damrill, shall I tell Mr. Damrill you don't wish to proceed with his

instructions?"

"No, why would you think that?"

"It just appears you don't wish for me to shave you as he instructed."

Embarrassed, Serenity trudged to the bed. When positioned as Marjorie had

requested, her feminine mound was soaped and with a deft hand, Marjorie expertly

shaved her smooth.

"Please, roll to your stomach and hold your cheeks open for me, Mrs. Damrill."

With hesitation but no argument, she did as the lady's maid bid. Her buttocks and the

area between her cheeks were relieved of any trace of the fine hair usually found there.

When Marjorie finished, she opened a bottle of scented oil and applied some to the

puckered hole and cheeks of Serenity's bottom.

Marjorie helped Serenity dress and fixed her hair in a simple knot with several

tendrils framing her face.

"Mr. Damrill shall be in as soon as I tell him you are ready. I shall have breakfast

brought in. Good day, Mrs. Damrill."

* * * * *

"Good morning, Serenity." Lucien entered her room without knocking.

"Good morning," she grumbled.

"Are you not pleased with Marjorie?"

Damn him, he sounded so amused. "I am not pleased with you, Lucien. I was

humiliated."

"You can always go back to the country and grow it back. If you stay here, I wish

your feminine hair to be gone." He walked with graceful fluidity across the room to the

chairs before the fireplace. He sank into one, crossing his long legs.

"I can have a carriage prepared within the hour. You could be back in

Nottinghamshire in just a couple of days, if you push on hard."

The thought of going back to Nottinghamshire send a frisson of fear down her

spine. She would never go back there. She only prayed news of her precipitous

departure had not reached the wrong ears. Her only solace was no one would suspect

she would return to Lucien.

"No, I don't wish to return to Nottinghamshire. I told you, I wish to be your

wife." She nodded in concession. He'd always been difficult and had obviously not

changed.

There was a knock on the door.

"That would be breakfast," he said.

Serenity opened the door and several servants brought in trays of coddled eggs,

bacon, freshly baked bread, and a variety of fruit as well as pots of delicious smelling

coffee. Hampton, Lucien's butler, organized everything on a table in front of the

fireplace and Lucien nodded dismissal.

"Let me serve you, my dear," he said as he reached for a plate.

"Thank you, would you like me to pour?"

Serenity sensed Lucien had something to say, yet he sat with a quirky smile on

his face.

"What is it, Lucien?"

"Why, in fact, are you here?" His face was calm; his steely gray eyes told no tales.

"I told you. It was time I became your wife."

"You have never given any indication of even the slightest bit of affection toward

me. You have always had money to spend as you wished. What benefit is there to

assuming your wifely duties after all this time?"

Serenity felt her heartbeat increase as she struggled to be calm. If she gave herself

away, he would send her back and no amount of pleading would stop him.

"I've missed you," she lied.

Lucien gave a humorless laugh. "You've missed me? How touching. A lie, to be

sure, but touching nonetheless."

Serenity's face flushed, as it often did when she was caught telling an untruth.

She straightened her back, pulled a haughty face, and said, "I told you, I wish to be your

wife. Now, if you cannot find it in your heart to believe me, then I feel the difficulty lies

with you and not me."

"Fine, if you won't tell me I shall have to take you at your word, won't I?"

Serenity nodded.

"Well, then, tell me this. Who has been kissing your breasts in my absence?"

"Lucien! Must you be so crass?"

"Yes, and I demand an answer."

She placed her hands under her legs to keep them from shaking. This line of

questioning was getting too close to the real reason she was in London.

"Ten years is a very long time, Lucien. Can you tell me of all the women with

whom you have been and all they have done to you?"

"I can," he said with nary a flinch.

"Well, I cannot." She'd decided she would rather he think her a whore than for

him to learn the truth.

"What are you hiding, Serenity? I dare say I don't know you well, but I do know

women. You are nervous, as though you are carrying a huge secret. Are you in some

kind of trouble? Let me help you."

Damn his eyes, she thought. Why did he have to be so kind and perceptive? No,

she wouldn't succumb to his charm.

"I am simply tired. You kept me up quite late and then this morning, you

inflicted Marjorie upon me. I am rather fragmented at the moment."

"I see. Well then I shall leave you to try to pull yourself together." He unfolded

himself from the chair and gave her a stiff bow. "Until later."

She didn't look in his direction and only knew he'd gone when she heard the

door click closed. When she was sure she was alone, she allowed her tears to flow. Oh,

she'd cried oceans full of tears since that day in Italy and she feared there would be

many more to cry. She was deceiving Lucien and she hated herself for it, even more

than she hated being tied to him. They had never loved one another and their marriage

had done nothing for either of them but shackled them in a union that could never be

severed.

A knock at the door brought footmen to clear away the remnants of breakfast.

She retreated to her dressing room while they were there. She would be moving soon

into the suite reserved for the lady of the house. She rather liked the room she was in,