The Muse (19 page)

He touched the tip of her nose. “Of that I have no doubt,
chérie
, so it is good they cannot see me now.”  Sitting down, he pulled her onto his lap sideways, clasping his hands to hold her.  “
Chérie
, please oblige me and let me tell you a little story, a fairy tale really.  Will you hear it?”

“Yes, please.”

“Are you comfortable before I begin?  Would you like to have your tea?  A bun?  Toast?”

“No more dallying, please.  You’ve promised me a story, and now you must deliver.”

“Very well…”

Once upon a time, there was a man, not so young, but regardless, came to be under a terrible curse.  He was turned into a dreadful, ugly toad and found himself in a land of fools and leeches.  The toad was lonely and unhappy and could not see how he would ever escape from his misery.  His particular curse required a beautiful princess to love him without pretense and see through all of his toadiness underneath to the real man, and into his true heart.

Luckily, for this particular toad, he came to the notice of the most beautiful princess in all the land.  She was not only beautiful, but also the wisest and kindest and bravest princess as well.  Giving freely and generously of her kindly nature she accepted the toad as he was.  The toad was desperate for the princess to love him, not because she would release him from his curse, but only because he loved her most ardently, and could not imagine life, any life, in any form, without her love in return.

The toad persisted valiantly to win the princess and made many mistakes along the way.

He embarrassed and pestered the princess, with his inappropriate, toad-like behaviours.  He was a complete and incomprehensible idiot in love, subjecting himself to the amusement of others, but he never gave up trying to win her.  Finally, one day, his joy was complete when the princess declared her love for the toad.  The lucky man was restored to his human form, the ugly toad exterior gone forever.

As the man and the beautiful princess were married, he made a vow to himself that he would appreciate the blessings this life had bestowed upon him and to take joy in the things, great and small, that graced his life.  He would pledge to spend his life loving the beautiful princess and her happiness would be all he would ever need to make his own complete.

Imogene had become very still during his story, her heart filling with emotion.  Unable to speak, she peered into his eyes as a big tear spilled down her face.

Graham took her face lovingly in his hands and kissed away every tear.  He held her on his lap for a long time, their foreheads resting together.  The emotion of the moment washed over her like a waterfall.  He kissed her heart pendant where it lay in the hollow of her throat, whispering, “You do hold my heart.”

“And mine,” she whispered back.

A moment later, he asked,
“Did you like the story?”

Imogene could hardly speak an answer.  “I declare it is my favourite story, the best I have ever heard.  I wish it was written down so I could read it over and over again and never forget the beautiful words.”

“YOUR eyes…I get so lost into your eyes, Graham, and I always have.  From the very first time I looked into them.  I do love you so very much.”

Graham held her, reflecting on the utter contentment at her profession of her love for him.  He just wanted to revel in the sensation of knowing she loved him.  He couldn’t speak; he was afraid even, because now that he had experienced her love for him, he knew irrevocably, that if he ever lost it, or her, his life would be worth nothing.

But she wasn’t done with her speech.  “My darling, I am afraid you have married an emotional creature, given to fits of crying and laughter in an instant with all sorts of sensitivities mixed in.  Try not to make too much of it though.  We ladies are made thus, so as to complement the opposite extreme of impassiveness in the masculine character and,”  pausing, she looked at him in question, “you do realize that I am teasing you right now?  The story you’ve just lovingly told to me being as far removed from impassiveness as anything could possib—”

He silenced her with a thorough kiss.  “I know exactly whom I’ve married, and right now I fear I need you to complement
my
masculine character.”

Murmuring the words to her, his hands and lips roamed freely.  He untied her wrapper, pushing the silk off her shoulders so it slipped down all the way, her fine skin and breasts uncovered for his pleasure.  Graham already understood Imogene’s power over him and it was a potent drug.

He got quiet, tracing his fingers reverently over her breasts, circling the dark pink nipples that begged for his mouth.  “These are so stunning, as I knew they would be,” he told her.

“Well, I am relieved that you find them to your liking,” she said softly.

“No.  It is not just that.”  He sighed deeply before trying to explain. “It is that your body is so beautiful, and you are so generous and giving of yourself, and that you love
me
and want to give yourself to
me
.  I can’t even explain all that I feel.  There are not words to express it.”  His eyes left her breasts and came to her eyes.  “I want to show you, again.  What say you, most beautiful
princess
of all the land?”

“I say yes, but you must allow me something first.”

“What is your wish,
chérie
?”

“Stay very still.”  He felt her hands come behind his head to remove the tie holding his hair back.  When it came away in her hand she brought his hair forward, to just behind his ears.  He had to close his eyes for the feel of it.  “Perfect,” was the only word she spoke.

Graham was on his feet in an instant carrying her out of the sitting room, returning her to the bed.  Clothes were stripped off frantically, as fast as he could manage.  Imogene lay back and watched him.  Her body was stunning, as real to being a princess as it was possible for her to be in his mind.  She reached out her arms for him to come to her on the bed.

She gives me all of herself, every part, her body, her heart, her love.

He knelt on the bed and pulled her onto his thighs, holding her firmly.  “I want to try it this way.”

Her eyes flared wide and her breathing grew deep as she comprehended his words.  Her surrender to his desires turned his blood to boiling in an instant.  The need to possess her and take her was nearly uncontainable.  He wanted to fuck her wildly, in every way possible, teach her everything there was to know about carnal pleasures all at once.

She was willing in his arms when he spread her wide and straddled her over his cock, guiding her downward and onto him.  Her tight cunt sheathed his cock in burning heat all the way to his bollocks.  She felt so good.  He sucked on her nipples as he lifted her up and down on his length, slowly, dragging out the pleasure for both of them, taking her carefully, building the fire toward a climax in increments.

Imogene moaned and sighed and circled her hips against his movements.

Never had a fucking felt like this.

Because this wasn’t just a fuck.  It was making love for the first time in his life.  He’d never loved a woman he’d bedded.  Not before last night.  Everything was different now.  He’d been captured.  His woeful heart had been captured by the beauteous creature in his arms.

How blessed was he.

“YOU never intended for us to start off for Gavandon today, did you?  You planned to keep me captive here and ravish me.  Do not deny it, sir, I know you did.  You planned everything, the letter, the pendant, the fairy tale.  Everything.  And in doing so, secured my acquiescence with no trouble at all.”

“Ah…yes, most definitely to ravish.  I figured I should at least try to do a proper ravishment of you.  Did I succeed?”

“I believe you did.”

“Mrs. Everley, you are in possession of a most savage and brilliant wit, and it is with every trick and influence at my disposal that I try to meet the challenge of directing you without you knowing it.  I can see now, that I have failed miserably in this.  My plans exposed by your very clever deciphering of them.”  He smiled at her.

She laughed at him.

“Now I am remembering that last night you woke me with giggling and you failed to share the cause.  Will you share it now?  What made you laugh,
chérie
?  I’ll be miserable if you do not tell me.”

“I was merely reflecting upon a conversation that Aunt Wilton had with me a few days before the wedding.”

“Please continue.”

“She wanted to prepare me for the demands that you would claim in the marriage bed.  She told me that because it was evident you loved me, you would certainly be kind and gentle.  She said I must not shirk away from my duty, and if I were to come to you willingly it would not be dreadful if done in the right attitude.  She also said that I should expect you to be, ah…enthusiastic in claiming me.”

“And you found that cause to laugh?”  He frowned. 
Dreadful?  Surely not.

She looked very naughtily at him. “I must say, my aunt was correct.  I do not find it dreadful at all.  On the contrary, I find it to be…just the opposite.”

Graham thought that he must really appreciate Lady Wilton for the wise woman she was; mentally adding her to his list of most favoured persons in all the world.  Sighing ruefully, he told her, “You do know, that when you say such things to me, looking like you do right now, that I am quite helpless to keep away from you.”

She nodded slowly.  “I know.”

“You are a witch, my lady, a very beautiful and corporeal witch, who has me utterly under her spell.  You seem to delight in vexation, but please, I implore you,” he mocked, “do not turn me into a toad again.”

“Oh, no, no, no, no, no,” Imogene assured him, reaching a hand down his body and putting her small hand over his lengthening cock.  “Never fear, my love.  That will not come to pass as I need you in your
human
form,
in
all
its glorious dimensions.  I simply cannot—I cannot have a toad in my bed

She said it deliberately, her eyes dark and suggestive.

Graham was lost to the mysterious beauty that was his Imogene.

Utterly lost.

To be totally understanding makes one very indulgent.

Mme de Staël   ~ Corinne, 1807

“THE
master has sent these for you, Lady Rothvale.”  Hester handed her a velvet box with a folded note.

Chérie,

I understand you intend to wear a jonquil yellow gown this evening out.  Please accept this item for dressing your hair.  I think it would complement your mamma’s pearls spectacularly.  This tiara actually belonged to my grandmother just as your choker came to your mamma through her mother.  Both pieces are older but created around the same time and should blend beautifully with the colour of your gown.  I cannot wait to see you in them together.  You will look just like the princess you are to me. I shall await you in the drawing room.

G

So, Hester dressed Imogene’s hair for her and arranged the tiara amid her up pinned curls.

Jonquil-yellow, currently at the height of fashion for the season, was indeed the perfect backdrop for her diamond and pearl choker, sitting just at the hollow of her throat.  Long white gloves completed her ensemble for their formal evening.

Imogene was already learning of her husband’s wishes to see her arranged artistically for his pleasure.  Graham didn’t make a great deal of requests of her, besides in bed, but he did seem to very much appreciate her willingness to indulge him in regards to her clothing and jewellery.  He appeared to derive great pleasure from being granted these small kinds of requests, and since she loved him so much, and because he was always so good to her, Imogene gave him what he’d asked for.

AS she entered the drawing room, Imogene paused near the doorway.

Graham stood at her approach, loving the moment, assessing if his assumptions were correct in arranging her jewels and dress tonight.  To others it might seem controlling, if they were even aware of it, but for him it was pure enjoyment to observe her beauty combined with objects of art.  She would still be beautiful even if dressed in rags, but since he was artistically inclined and appreciated beauty in all forms, it gave him great pleasure to see her adorned in a way that he felt was her due.  He directed with his finger that she should do a turn for him.  Smiling, she obliged, completing her circle with a flourish.

“Perfection as always, my princess,” he whispered, taking first one hand and then the other, kissing her palms.  “Shall we?”  He offered his arm.  Once inside the carriage, he retreated back to thoughtful gazing.

“On what are you pondering now?” she asked.

“I am thinking of how beauteous you look and of all the ogling eyes that shall be trained upon you, of all of the grasping idiots who shall wish an introduction to you, and of having to share you tonight.”

“That is very good information to have,” she teased gently with a touch to his arm.  “Graham, behave yourself tonight.  Do not insult anybody on my account because you are jealous.”

“A perfect gentleman I will be.  On my honor, I will conduct myself with restraint.” Taking her hand from his arm, he brought it to his lips.  “At least…until later,” he said wickedly, bestowing a gentle bite of his teeth upon her skin.

IMOGENE stood in the room waiting for Hester to come and help her undress after their evening out.  She heard the door open, then soft footsteps.

The hands that reached for her were not Hester’s, though.  “I am to be your lady’s maid this evening,” he whispered into her ear.  “Something I have long desired to do.”

“How long has that been your goal, sir?”

“Honestly?  Since the night of the Kenilbrooke ball.”

“Such lecherous thoughts, Lord Rothvale, and upon the very same day as you laid eyes upon me.  Shocking!”

“Guilty as charged,” he breathed behind her, “but I have kept my word from earlier, when we were inside the carriage; I was a gentleman tonight, managing to fight through the throngs of grasping idiots trying to reach you.  Nobody was harmed in word or deed, and now, I believe it is time for me to collect my reward.”

“I see,” she said, playing along.  “As this is your first time acting as my maid, should you need any kind of instruction from me?”

“Please,
chérie
, that would be very helpful.”  He kissed the back of her neck.  “But before we begin, I should like you here, standing before the mirror, and myself standing behind you,” he told her as he arranged them both according to his wishes.  “Now we are ready.  What is the first step?”  He faced and spoke to her into the mirror.

Imogene felt sensual heat fill her at the sight of him in the glass.  Wearing only his trousers, his beautiful shirtless chest and unbound hair made speech nearly impossible.  “F-first you m-must remove my jewels and return them to their c-cases.”

In a low voice, Graham replied, “We shall be passing over that step.  What is next?”

“You must remove my gown, being careful not to damage any of the fastenings for they are very delicate.”

Graham pecked carefully at the fastenings one by one, seeming to grow frustrated by the stubbornness of some, and pulling a little too vigorously on others until a ravaged button ripped from its place and fell, bouncing and tapping along the floor.  The sound of it garishly loud for such a small button.  Looking up sheepishly, he spoke into the mirror again, “Whoops?”

Imogene burst out with a giggle, impossible to suppress, but controlled it quickly with a hand to her mouth. “Now you must help me out of it and carefully set it aside for repair.”

Graham pushed the yellow silk down, off her shoulders slowly, feeling her body deliberately as he pressed the gown down lower and lower until it bunched at her knees.  Bending, he held her hand for balance, aiding her in stepping out of it.  Gathering up the gown rather carelessly, he tossed it onto a chair, brushing his hands off for dramatic effect.

“My waist petticoat,” she told him.

He tugged on the waist tie rather forcefully, causing her body to move along with his efforts.  The petticoat fell in a heap, and again he assisted her in stepping out before gathering it up and pitching it over his shoulder.  “This is going rather well, I think,” he remarked into the mirror.

“My slippers will go next.”

“Ah, yes, but we will skip that step as well,
chérie
.”  Graham shook his head.

“I see, so I take it that since you will not be removing my slippers, then what of my stockings?”

He looked directly into her eyes in the mirror. “They will remain on.”

Imogene swallowed.  “My stays.”

Deft fingers pulled the laces undone quite easily, his skill reminding her that he did have experience with ladies’ undergarments, or in the removal of them at least.  Imogene did not like pondering the idea.

She felt her stomach dip when he pulled the corset away, dropping it to the floor with a thud. “Next?”

“My hair should come down now.”

She felt his breath falling on her neck, and then his deep inhale as he breathed in the lavender she used on her hair.  “No.  I shall leave it for now as it is.  What is left?”  His eyes lifted to look into the mirror yet again, with the intent to see her response.

Imogene was quickly losing her control, so arousing was this little dance he led her, but she drew in her strength and said boldly, “You must take away my shift and replace it with a nightdress.”

He nodded thoughtfully.  “Although a nightdress will not be needed, I have just the thing.  It shall do very well.”  Imogene held her breath as he lifted the hem of her shift and pulled it up carefully over her body, gently over her hair, until it was gone.  She stood bare before him, with the exception of stockings, slippers and her jewels.

Graham had turned away now, reaching for something on the back of the settee.  It was her shawl.  He returned to drape it upon her.  She stood with one of her legs forward, her weight rested upon one hip.  Graham moved her arms straight out at her sides where he laid the shawl over, swathing it in a drape across her back.  Lastly, he brought her arms down to her sides with elbows slightly bent.  Stepping back, he left her alone to view his creation.

Standing before him in only her jewels, her stockings, and her shawl, Imogene saw Graham’s eyes go dark and sparkly.

“Let me look at you; indulge me,” he whispered as he began to circle her.  “I have to capture this particular image in my mind—it is very special, very special indeed.”

Graham reminded her of a wolf, circling her right now.  She felt the heat of his gaze and his whispered words, letting the sensations wrap around her.  Power, lust, anticipation, control—Imogene felt all of those things.

After what seemed like an age of time, Graham swept her up, setting her upon the very edge of the bed, wolfish eyes drinking in more of the view.  She started backing up, using her hands, not knowing why, just continuing to crawl backward until reaching the headboard and unable to go any farther.  His eyes locked onto her wildly, head tilted—the wolf again.  The air expelled through his teeth sounded like a soft growl.

Leaning in, he took hold of one perfect, stockinged, slippered ankle in each hand, and swiftly pulled her right back to him, again to the very edge of the bed.  His message clear—no escape—the wolf
would
have her.

And it was good, for escape was not her goal, to be captured by her wolf was…

He slid his hands up from her ankles and pressed one to the inside of each of her knees.  Imogene knew what he was going to do and the anticipation made her swoon.  The idea that she was on the bed already relieved her, for her ability to stand up for him on display had long passed.

It didn’t matter.

Graham wanted her exactly where he’d put her.  He wrenched her legs apart firmly, opening her up for taking his cock inside of her body again.  She gasped at the thought.

She saw his eyes flare at the sight of her spread sex, his hands working at his breeches, tearing them open to free his cock.  It sprang out fully hard and erect, pulsing and ready.

Graham didn’t speak words.  He didn’t need to.  His intent was very clear, and would end only when he’d reached his release and spilled his seed deep inside her.  This would be after he made her fall apart with pleasure first.  He was so good at pleasuring.  So good.