SoundsofLove (4 page)

Cathryn was in a frenzy of desire after reading this
account. She imagined Julian spreading her thighs and urging her to take what
she now prayed would be his Williamesque sex in her hand, so she could guide
him between her swollen lips and allow him access to her most intimate place.
With a glance at the door, and another at the clock—thirty-five minutes
left—she laid the book down on the cushion beside her and hiked her skirts up
over her knees. Closing her eyes, she imagined Julian’s hand making its way up
her stockings to her thigh, and her own hand responded in kind. She lifted her
skirts higher, shifted so she was as reclined as her corset would allow, and
then she felt along her thigh until she came to her crisp curls. This was
incredibly wicked, and she knew she should stop before she defiled herself. But
she wanted to continue very badly.

Every part of me was open and exposed to the licentious
courses of her hands, which, like a lambent fire, ran over my whole body, and
thawed all coldness as they went.

The words rang in her head and heat enveloped her. The
flames warmed the insides of her thighs and the residual burn of the sherry
freed her to abandon her restraints. The cauldron of desire within her soon
reached a boiling point.

With a sharp inhalation, she moved her hand upwards and
touched her outer lips. The sensation was exquisite and she began to pant lightly.
Her lips were slick with her juices, which invited further delicious
exploration as her legs parted farther. The wetness entranced her, and she
followed it into her tight breach, where the promise of more heat led her to
thrust her middle finger and moan with the pleasure she felt.

In twenty-eight years she had never once delved inside
herself, and a wave of shame washed over her briefly. Her hand stilled for an
instant as she considered her actions.

Pleasure.

Could this be such a bad thing? Millions of women must
have done what I am doing.
Her curiosity overwhelmed her bout of guilt.

Julian would know what to do next, and she wished he were
here now, touching her in this intimate way.

Her eyes opened and fixed on William’s thick cock, circled
by Fanny’s emboldening hand, and she pressed deeper and felt her inner self
with fascination. The wet, pliable space wanted more, wanted to be stretched
wide. She added her index finger, and her thumb came to rest above, on the hood
of her pearl. Soon the thumb became her focus as the sensations it evoked were
beyond her experience. She withdrew her slick fingers and toyed with the virgin
zone of pleasure.

Such delight did exist for a woman!

She nearly wept that it had taken her so long to seek this
forbidden pleasure.

Her middle finger stroked her pearl ever firmer, and she
felt her own hardness for the first time. Her own shaft of bliss. How had she
not known this existed? She wanted to shout her wonderment.

Women of the world unite! Fanny will lead us all to new
heights!

Her other hand now joined the game and took over the slick
penetration. Cathryn felt a pleasurable pressure building inside, beyond her
finger's reach, and the pressure moved forward with the force of a slow
locomotive. It kept coming as she pressed deeper and stroked harder with a
steady rhythm, and she could not stifle cries of exquisite delight as the
volcanic pressure burst and spread throughout her charged body. Her sex
clenched around her thrusting fingers, and her cries turned to moans and whimpers.
An explosion of bliss nearly swept her off the couch, as wave after wave of
pulsating pleasure surged through her.

When she was thoroughly spent, she tried to calm her loud
panting. A whimper escaped as she extracted her fingers from their damp trappings.
Her head fell back against the couch, and she explored for a last moment her
exquisitely sensitive flesh. More wetness flowed from her, and she jolted when
she stroked her sensitive pearl, even though it was not as hard as it had been.

Did Julian know a woman was so sensitive afterwards?

Of course he did, she thought as she slowly came to her
senses. He was a man of great experience. He must know everything, even the
delicious languor she was now feeling, as if all her bones had melted. No
wonder Geoffrey had always begun to snore a few minutes after their brief
encounters. She closed her eyes and savored the relaxation. A guilty peek at
the clock eased her mind about being caught in such a shameful posture. Twenty
minutes left. She straightened her petticoats and gown as she sat up gingerly.

William’s erection seem to mock her now.
You still
haven’t got what you really want.

Cathryn closed the book and rose from her seat. “I’ll have a
bold man soon, Fanny. And I expect you’ll help guide me on how to keep a rake
happy. Even if it is a short liaison, I suspect it will be worth the risks
involved.”

She glanced around the room for a hiding place for her new
tutorial and decided to take it to her bedroom. Julian filled her thoughts as
she wandered out into the cool hallway, and her heart began to pound as she
considered thanking him for enlightening her.

He was going to be a magnificent lover. Exactly what her
body and spirit craved.

First, she needed to come to terms with Percival.

The next morning at eleven, Cathryn hovered near the front
hallway waiting for Julian. Violet was upstairs in the parlor, and Cathryn
wanted a moment with him before the official visit began. She imagined he would
be very disappointed that she had not arranged for them to be alone, but she
was not schooled in pretext and hadn’t found a reason to send Violet away.

He’d sent her a neatly scripted note last evening after
dinner, and it burned in the pocket of her dress.

In her verdant lair,

the lioness awakens.

In the cold, he waits.

It was her first love poem—an overture to today’s seduction.

A reservoir of erotic energy filled her, as if the hours of
seeking and finding release with Fanny had multiplied her desire, not
diminished it. She had never made love to herself before, never stood in front
of a mirror brazenly naked while trying to appreciate what men liked about the
female form. With the exception of an extra pound around her thighs, she’d
found her body adequate, and she was anxious to see Julian’s reaction.

He must have been with so many women, how could she hope to
compare to those beauties? Her doubts nagged at her, but nonetheless, she was
eager for him. Her curiosity over his physical endowments had grown to a
relentless distraction. Could she possibly please him, or was she destined for
a lesser man? Or perhaps she had misunderstood, and he would be no better
equipped than Geoffrey had been, but undoubtedly possessing greater skill
between the sheets. He could transport her, she was confident of that fact from
the kisses they’d shared, and she wanted very much to shed tears of pleasure
with a man such as he.

She was in the dining room counting the household’s supply
of wax candles for the fifth time when the knocker at the front door alerted
her—the seduction resumed. She rushed to the foyer, where Lewin was already
opening the door.

She gathered her cashmere shawl tight around her as the
blast of cold air from outside scattered her wild thoughts of slick candles and
massive penises. Julian locked eyes with her as soon as he entered, and the
intensity in his bearing seemed to fill the small space. He acknowledged Lewin
with a pleasant, “Good morning” as the butler took his coat, top hat and cane,
but it wasn’t until Julian came to stand just inches in front of her that he
spoke to her. “You’re looking very well, Lady Sibley. Burgundy becomes you. I
trust you had a good night’s rest?”

She nodded, speechless at the sight of him, and glad she had
worn her second new dress. He was the handsomest man she had ever shared
company with, a paragon of sultry male beauty. He wore a camel-hair jacket with
dark-brown trousers and waistcoat that matched the rich hue of his hair. She
held out her hand, and he stroked her fingertips as he bowed over it, again
tickling her wrist with his silken locks. His touch renewed the ache within
her, and she came to her senses enough to say, “Good morning, my lord. I slept
very well, thank you.”

He still held her hand and did not allow her to withdraw it.
Instead, he turned and tucked her arm in his and stood staring down at her.

Cathryn glanced behind him and saw that Lewin had gone. With
a sigh of relief, she leaned into Julian. “I’ve had the most remarkable day and
night since you left. I cannot adequately express my gratitude for your gifts,
and your poem was utterly charming.”

He chuckled. “I hoped you would describe what you learned,
but not in your front hallway.”

“My sister-in-law is waiting upstairs, my lord. We share
this house.” Cathryn smiled nervously. “I only hoped for a moment alone to
thank you for what you’ve done.” She led him towards the stairs.

“What have I done, love?” His light air gave way to an
intensity she recognized already.

She wished she could change her last sentence, but it was
out. She shook her head in mute discomfort, wishing she had waited until they
had time alone before broaching this intimate subject.

He refused to climb the step. “Tell me.”

“Later, please.”

His eyes shone in anticipation, melting her reserve.

How could she explain such a thing? “It was nothing…”
Liar!
It was everything—a new dimension added to my life.
The gold flecks in his
eyes dimmed, and she quickly retreated from her lie. “I had never… I didn’t
know… I…”

With a low growl, he grabbed her hand and dragged her into
the nearest doorway. “You’d never had a woman’s pleasure?” Sparks flew as he
asked her the question.

“Never.”

“Men are fools.” His mouth came down on hers, and she lost
herself in his kiss and in the warmth of his embrace. His tongue swept across
her bottom lip, and she opened herself to him, whimpering as he claimed her.
Deep, delicious desire inflamed her. When she felt him fumbling for the door
handle behind her, she wanted nothing more than to allow him to debauch her in
the study—over the desk or on the rug or—

The door swung open with the pressure of their bodies and
propelled her into the dim, frigid room. His mouth left hers and she came to
her senses. “No, my lord, we mustn’t—”

“Julian. My name is Julian.” He closed the door quietly with
his foot as he cupped her face in his hands and drew her back to him. “I only
want a proper kiss, my lady.” He kissed her lips lightly. “For today.”

“Cathryn,” she murmured, adding quietly from habit, “C-a-t-h-r-y-n,
it’s a Greek spelling.”

“Cathryn,” he repeated reverently as he scanned her face. “A
lovely name for a beautiful woman.”

Another soft kiss and she allowed him to enfold her in his
arms. Her cheek pressed against his chest and her arms between them still
clutched her shawl. For a delicious moment, she felt cherished by this
magnificent man, and she wondered again why he had set his sights on the likes
of her.

His chest swelled beneath her cheek and he rubbed down the
length of her back. She relaxed into him and emitted a deep
mmm
as his
strong hands eased her tension.

“I believe you’ve just
murred
, Cathryn. It’s a lovely
sound.”

He rubbed her spine and she
murred
again, followed by
a light laugh. “That feels wonderful, Julian.”

He continued to hold her as he gently kneaded her neck
muscles. “I want you to settle your affairs with Hedges.” He stroked down her
back and she arched with the pleasure. “Before we deepen our acquaintance.”

He assumed she would set Percival aside for him. Hedges was
dull, but he would keep her from the poorhouse. Would a short liaison with a
man such as Julian do as much?

It was a notion worth exploring. Marrying the baron held
less appeal than ever before.

“I sent him a note yesterday afternoon.” The earl’s hands
stilled as she spoke. “I requested an audience with him in the next fortnight.”

A sound remarkably like a low purr came from Julian’s chest.
She smiled when he said, “Good girl.”

He loosened his hold and smiled down at her, his hair
framing his dangerous features.

She would do anything to have this spectacular man, even
risk her future well-being. It was a frightening realization.

“I’ll not do wrong by you, Cathryn.” A hand cupped her cheek
as relief flooded her. “Whatever happens between us, I’ll take care of you. Do
you understand?”

“I believe so.” She had no idea what he meant exactly, but
the intent was comfort enough for now. “I trust you, Julian.” She wasn’t
certain she did, but the words came out before she gave them full thought, and
she couldn’t take them back.

A crushing kiss was his response. He urged her farther into
the room then, until she felt the desk on the back of her thighs. A rush of
cold air on her legs told her he was lifting her skirts, and her head fell back
as his hand skimmed up her silk stockings.

“No, Julian, not here—”

“Shhh, I only want to feel you.” His hand reached her thighs
and he cupped her sex briefly before stroking her with a long finger. He
exhaled sharply and continued his sensual probing. “Oh, Cathryn, you’re so wet.
Such a sweet temptation.”

She whimpered and gave herself over to his thrilling touch.
Exquisite delight permeated her, suffusing her with skin-tingling desire. He
circled her slick lips and found her throbbing pearl, which he stroked
skillfully, and the pleasure weakened her knees. “Lovely.” He kissed her lightly
as he stroked, and she whimpered again as the pressure began to build within
her. A thick finger entered her slowly, and he groaned along with her as she
shifted to accommodate his blissful intrusion. “And you’re tight as a virgin.”

Geoffrey had never touched her like this, and she wondered
what it said of her that she enjoyed it so wantonly.

With a huff, he withdrew his hand and let her skirt drop. “We’d
best stop, or I’ll disgrace myself.”

Cathryn was stunned at the loss of him. Her sex ached for
completion and she reached out to pull him closer again. “Please.”

“No, not today.” He took a step back.

“Wait. Please.” She felt a pang of desperation as she
glanced down at his trousers and held out a hand tentatively, wishing she had
better light as she slaked her curiosity. “Show me.”

A deep chuckle filled the room and he took another step
back. Wordlessly, he unbuttoned his coat and spread it apart. He undid two
buttons on his trousers and his hand disappeared inside. Cathryn held her
breath as he withdrew his erection and gave it a long stroke before releasing
it. “You are a bold wench.”

His cock seemed twice as large as Geoffrey’s and very much
on par with Fanny’s William. Her insides turned to mush, and she whispered, “You’re
magnificent.” Nearly crimson in the dim light, with a bulbous head atop the
thick rod, his erection rose under her avid gaze as if promising to please her
well.

Julian allowed her a long look. Then he turned away and
started to set himself to rights. “Go upstairs now. I’ll follow in a minute.”
His deep command held no room for argument, and Cathryn started to comply
without thought.

She regretted not touching him, and when she reached the
door, she turned to him. “Julian.”

His back was to her and he cut her off with a gruff, “Go.
Now.”

She hesitated, but he was right. Not today. But soon, she
thought as she pressed down on the door handle. Very soon.

Julian stood in the dark study and tried to think about what
he’d eaten for breakfast. He’d found that thinking about his last meal was a
dependable way to diminish his ardor. Anything but Sibley and her wetness,
anything but the prick that hung heavy between his legs longing to be buried
inside her tight sheath. In earlier years, he’d tried thinking about Parliament
or gambling or his mother, but all of those invariably left him angry or
melancholy. Breakfast was a neutral subject—better than neutral since he loved
food and kept an excellent cook. Kippers, eggs, fragrant coffee loaded with
fresh cream.

It took only a minute before he was able to snake his member
back into seclusion. Sibley was outrageous with her request; she promised to be
great bed sport.
Fanny Hill
had obviously inspired her—what a
pleasurable thought. He lifted his hand to his nose and inhaled the scent of
Cathryn. His cock thickened and Julian dropped his hand to his side.

Where had he dined last night? He couldn’t recall
immediately. Likely the club, but just the wondering gave him the respite he
needed. He searched for his gloves and found them on the rug next to the desk.
He drew them on while making a conscious effort not to remember how she felt.
Later he would savor the details, but not now.

It was time to meet the sister-in-law. He mustn’t delay
overlong or Cathryn would have trouble explaining his absence.

His concern was short-lived, because the delectable Lady
Sibley waited for him at the bottom of the stairs. The sight of her slightly
disheveled hair and full lips reddened from kisses set his heart racing as few
women had in his thirty-five years.

“I’m sorry, Julian, but I’m not adept at deception. I
thought it best to wait for you so I wouldn’t have to explain to Violet.” She
glanced below his waist. “Are you…recovered?”

He nodded, amused at her continued boldness. “Why has Hedges
not come to claim you?”

“My lord?”

“Has he not explained his absence in any way?”

“I did receive a letter from him after the will was read. He
said he had a major study underway and would be occupied until it was finished.”

Julian snorted. “Scholars always have a major study
underway.” He assessed her as they ascended the stairs together. Trim figure
with large breasts, pleasing features, fine skin, thick and lustrous hair. “Has
the man never seen you?”

“Of course he has, we’ve met on several occasions.”

“Do me a favor, my lady.” She nodded and he finished, “Wear
a veil for your audience with him.”

She had an easy, quiet laugh, and he joined her as they
approached the parlor. She stepped back to allow him to open the door and they
came face to face, with her prominent bosom the only barrier between them.

He loved corsets at such a time as this, as it was
impossible to disregard such blatant offerings. “And a cloak,” he added with an
appreciative gaze and a grin. Her ruby lips were dark from their passion, and
he was drawn to bend over her and take another sweet kiss. “And don’t let him
taste you.”

He backed off with a jarring thought. “Has he already? Has
Hedges kissed you?” The visceral urge to box the distant man’s ears was undeniable.

She placed a comforting hand on his chest. “No, Julian, I
assure you. No man has ever kissed me the way you have.”

He had barely begun to kiss her, and he would show her many
pleasurable ways to use her lovely mouth. “Good,” he muttered as he reached for
the door handle. These jealous emotions caught him unawares. Why did he care
who she kissed?