Her shy response was gratifying to say the least. After a moment she gave a small smothered sigh and her arms tightened.
With thoroughness he explored every delicious inch of her mouth, licking the delicate corners of her soft lips, feeling the smoothness of her teeth, and tangling his tongue against hers. His body reacted predictably to the curvaceous feel of her in his arms, the pliant weight of her full breasts against his chest. The sheer speed at which his cock stiffened to full erection was a little startling, but then again, he had never wanted any woman the way he desired Vanessa.
"Your Grace, dinner is ... oh, dear. I ... I beg your pardon."
With reluctance Robert broke the kiss and lifted his head at that stammered interruption. “Thank you, Woods. We'll be right in."
"Very good, sir.” The butler vanished discreetly from the doorway.
Vanessa's cheeks held a decided pink hue and she scrambled off his lap, fussily smoothing her skirts. “That was rather embarrassing."
"That was rather promising,” Robert argued, stifling a wince as he stood up, the confining material of his breeches not exactly comfortable in his aroused state. “Besides, physical affection is a healthy part of marriage, Vanessa, so I am sure no one would be surprised to see us demonstrate it now and then."
"Do you wish to demonstrate it this evening?” She gave him an unreadable glance as she took his proffered arm so he could escort her to the dining room.
Robert stopped cold. He hesitated to answer, more than a little surprised she would bring up the question. Was she actually requesting he come to her bed, or apprehensive and trying to brace herself for the event? Just yesterday, he would have said the latter. Now he wasn't as sure. Finally, he settled for saying in a bland tone, “I will leave it up to you."
She looked startled. “It is your choice and my duty to comply."
The entire concept of wifely duty was, he was sure, one of the most singularly selfish male inventions in the history of mankind and it irritated him she thought that way. “Making love is not a chore assigned you, my dear, or it isn't supposed to be. I do not know what strictures and rules your prim father drilled into your head, but between you and I there is no such arrangement. When we share a bed, I prefer enthusiasm to acquiescence, believe me."
"I want to be enthusiastic, Robert, but I am not even comfortable talking about this, much less ... well, doing it."
It was true. He knew that better than anyone. However, that confession, said with poignant sincerity, coupled with her actual response to his kiss, was a very encouraging improvement.
St. Claire might not just be an artistic genius. After all, the man somehow managed to get her out of her clothes, which was more than he could say.
He gazed down at her averted face, studying the porcelain perfection of her profile. “I am willing to begin again as you suggested earlier. Just let me know when you are ready to do so."
* * * *
A languid hand ran down his chest, across his stomach, and cool fingers wrapped around his softening cock. Nathaniel took in a sharp breath at the skillful caress as he felt a gentle squeeze. “You might give me a minute, luv."
"Nonsense.” Deborah Wrightwood gave a low, throaty chuckle and began to work his shaft with an expertise that spoke volumes for the lady's past experience. “You get hard again faster than anyone I know.” Her smile was both impudent and deliberately taunting. “In fact, you fuck better than anyone I know."
"Considering how many men you've known, I'll accept the compliment.” He wasn't being judgmental, since her promiscuity didn't bother him in the least.
"Uhm.” She didn't look offended either, but licked his shoulder in a wicked swipe of her talented tongue, her long dark hair spilling down her back and her plump breasts jiggling as she adjusted position. Ten years older and married to a baronet, his latest paramour was a bit spoiled and demanding, and he doubted he would stay interested long, but then again, he rarely did. Art was his love, and his work consumed almost his every waking moment. Oh, he enjoyed sex as much as the next man, but it was for physical relief, not emotional satisfaction.
It had struck him that afternoon how indifferent his attitude was toward romantic affection as he began the nude painting of Caerleon's young duchess. The woman in question was so in love with her husband she couldn't relax enough to enjoy the carnal act because she wanted to please and didn't know how. On the opposite end of the spectrum, Nathaniel had never felt more than lust for any woman, so he knew nothing about the spiritual side of the connection between men and women. Their bodies were no mystery, of course, but perhaps he could learn as much from Vanessa Augustine as she could from him.
It was a little ironic and maybe why he was so driven to paint the picture.
"Are you paying attention, darling?"
"What?"
Deborah gave a very convincing pout. “I'm fondling your cock like it's part of the royal jewel collection and you are daydreaming about something else."
He folded his arms behind his head, propped against the pillows, ignoring his stiffening cock in her manipulative hand. “Do you remember your first time, Deb?"
"My first time doing what?” She circled the tip of his cock with her finger and tasted his semen with a playful wiggle of her eyebrows, her finger stuck in her mouth like a naughty child.
"Fucking."
She shrugged, looking puzzled and little annoyed he was more interested in conversation than sex. “It was a long time ago, but I suppose so."
"Were you nervous?"
"I was all of fifteen and my father had a very gorgeous stable boy ... I can't remember his name ... but no, not nervous. Just anxious for it.” She moved suggestively, her heavy breasts bobbing. “Like now."
Oh Lord, why he'd thought the hedonistic Lady Wrightwood with her indiscriminate appetite would have anything sensitive to say on the subject was beyond him. Nathaniel fought the urge to roll his eyes and despite all her efforts, felt his growing erection begin to fade.
Though unprecedented, he found he wasn't in the mood for another casual coupling this evening.
When talking to the duchess he had self-proclaimed a certain proficiency on the subject of sex. It was true, he'd bedded scores of women from all walks of life in his varied career, but the one subject in which he was woefully lacking was love.
Woman Incarnate was about sensuality. But perhaps it was also about how complicated human sexuality actually was, how tied together sentiment was to raw desire, how different men and women were, but yet how alike in their undeniable attraction to each other.
Fascinating.
He jumped out of bed and grabbed his tattered robe. Damnation, he kept forgetting to buy a new one.
Deborah sat up, indignant and startled. “Where the devil are you going?"
"Please excuse me, my dear Deb. I must sketch in preparation for my model arriving tomorrow for her sitting."
"Now?” It was practically a shriek.
Nathaniel nodded and jerked the belt of his dressing gown around his waist in a careless knot. “I'm afraid so."
He grinned at the very unladylike word she said as he exited the room.
* * * *
Vanessa lifted her hand to knock and hesitated, standing there in her dressing gown like a statue for a moment before she made the decision and rapped lightly.
Since Robert had made it her choice, she wanted to at least try. What kind of a wife would she be if she declined to go to him?
To her complete dismay, it was his valet who opened the door. The young man bowed and looked a bit disconcerted. “Duchess."
It had not occurred to her Robert would not be alone, which showed how naïve she really was about how the household worked. She knew he had a valet, of course, but hadn't thought about the fact the young man might still there. “Is my husband ready?"
Oh Lord, did I really just say that?
"For bed,” she quickly clarified.
That's even worse.
"I mea
n ... well...” she stammered, not certain who was more embarrassed, her or the servant who couldn't be more than a year or so older.
"I am most certainly ready.” Robert's voice was full of amusement as he came to her rescue. “Williams, you may go for the evening. I think my lovely wife wants a word with me."
"Yes, Your Grace.” The valet stood aside for her to enter and left the room quickly by the door into the hallway, discreetly closing it behind him.
Her tall husband was partially undressed, his cravat discarded, shirt unbuttoned, and his feet bare. Tailored breeches clung to long legs and she could see the gleam of his naked chest through the open material of his shirt. When he'd come to her in the past, he'd worn his dressing gown and she had always looked away when he'd taken it off before getting into her bed, even after he'd doused the lights.
But at the moment, she was actually ... intrigued. He was always strikingly handsome, but she was struck by his blatant masculinity in his half-dressed state. She'd finally really looked at her body and found she was curious about his.
Robert cocked a brow. “Are you here because you would feel guilty if you did not come?"
It was close enough to the truth she felt a glimmer of dismay. “I am not sure,” she told him after a moment, her smile a little shaky. “I am a coward, I suppose, for I am fearful of disappointing you yet again. But, if I do not try, I will most certainly fail you, so I am in an untenable position, aren't I?"
"Darling, you do not disappoint me.” His voice held a note of exasperation. “I am a little frustrated perhaps, but you haven't failed in any way."
Vanessa gazed at him, acutely aware she was completely naked under her robe. “I thought we agreed we would not be polite and tiptoe around this subject. I will be honest and tell you Nathaniel St. Claire explained to me more about what should happen between a man and a woman this afternoon than my married aunt who instructed me on what to do on my wedding night. Moreover, he certainly has a different attitude on the subject than Aunt Eugenia."
"That doesn't surprise me,” Robert muttered, his expression more curious than irritated. “Normally I would thrash St. Claire within an inch of his life for speaking to you about something so indelicate, but he seems to be having a positive effect. I have tried to talk to you about this, may I remind you. However, you have always quickly changed the subject or stopped talking altogether. A lecture is hardly romantic, so I decided to not say anything more."
Like a gentleman.
Nathaniel had pointed out in bed there were no titles, no lords and ladies, and certainly politesse had no place there.
She glanced at Robert's bed. It was huge and sat on a dais, the carved spindles and massive headboard symbolic of the wealth and privilege of the Augustine family and the ducal master suite. With bravado, she walked past her husband and climbed up the three steps so she sat on the edge, and folded her hands in her lap. “Do you want to know what Aunt Eugenia had to say about what to expect from conjugal relations?"
"In retrospect, I think I can guess.” Robert gave her a sardonic smile, but didn't move, folding his arms across his chest. His thick chestnut hair gleamed in the candlelight. “I take it she instructed you to grit your teeth and bear it and it would be over soon enough."
"Throw in several descriptions that included adjectives like disgusting and painful and you have it about right, I'm afraid."
"Bloody hell, I was an idiot to not have simply talked to you myself. No wonder you were so tense."
Since he would never have normally sworn in front of her, Vanessa stifled a small laugh. St. Claire, of course, had absentmindedly used inappropriate language dozens of times while she sat for her portrait, so she was getting used to it, but if Robert did it, it was a true reaction.
"It isn't too late,” she said softly.
Her husband still didn't move. “You wish for me to explain the process when you now know what it is?"
"Do I? It is obvious you and I do not perceive it the same way."
"I suppose that is true.” The response was measured, his gray eyes glimmering.
"Tell me what you want, how you feel.” Nervousness roiled in her stomach but it was mingled with an excitement she had never experienced before.
At that, he moved, walking slowly toward where she perched on the edge of the big bed. “How I feel?” A quixotic smile curved his lips. “About making love to the most beautiful woman in the world? I don't know if I am eloquent enough, but I will try."
"So will I.” As she made the promise, Vanessa experienced that same interesting tremor and her breasts felt oddly tight and full. She could not help but be fascinated by the hard muscled ridges of his chest and the athletic grace of his lean body as he approached, his white shirt gaping open.
"I suppose I should start by telling you when a man desires a woman and she is close by and willing, he gets an erection. It is a primal function that all male creatures experience, for the urge for sexual intercourse is based on the need to procreate. The difference between us and other animals is human beings mate also just for the pleasure of the act.” Robert lifted a hand and lightly brushed her cheek with the back of his fingers as he looked into her eyes. “I'm getting one right now."
He was close enough she could smell his scent, a spicy combination of brandy and something else, something entirely male. Vanessa whispered, “I see."
"Arousal is not limited to men, my dear. You did enjoy our kiss earlier, did you not?"
She had, but then again, he had never quite kissed her that way before. He'd been gentle as always, but more importunate. To her surprise, she'd liked it when he became more forceful for she felt as if he were treating her like a woman and not a fragile piece of glass. It was the same thing when they made love. He was so careful not to try to not cause her discomfort that she expected it to be uncomfortable. Her lashes fluttered down and she admitted, “Yes."
Robert would not let her look away but caught her chin and tilted her face up. “I did too. May I?"
He didn't wait for an answer but instead sat down next to her and lowered his mouth to hers. In reflex, her hands came up to grasp his shirt and she parted her lips for the foray of his tongue. The kiss was deep, hungry, and when he lifted his head she felt breathless.
"Tell me more."
"What if I show you? It seems to me I've been handling this wrong from the beginning, so whatever has happened—or in your case, not happened—between us is entirely my fault. In my quest to initiate you slowly into the pleasures of the flesh, I fear I made several grave errors. For one, I agreed to darkness for the sake of modesty. It made sense to me to embarrass you as little as possible but it certainly takes away from the experience for me, and so maybe it does for you as well."
As she watched, he stood and first shrugged out of his shirt, and then unfastened his breeches. Under her fascinated stare, he pushed the material down his legs and stepped free. The springing length of his cock jutted up high against the taut plane of his stomach, large and long, distended with veins. There was a hole at the dark crest, right now beaded with clear fluid.
"Touch me,” her husband suggested, his voice just a little thicker than usual. “You said you wished for me to tell you what I want. It would please me."
Touch ... that?
Actually, she wanted to touch him, amazed she could have no idea how an erect penis looked, after two months as a married woman. Gingerly, she reached out and ran an exploring finger down the satiny length all the way to the base where his testicles were pulled tight, the twin sacs looking full and heavy. Not able to believe she could be so wanton, she cupped them and was rewarded by Robert giving a low groan.
"I had no idea,” she murmured, fondling them with tentative curiosity.
"I intend to expand your education this evening, believe me. Why don't you take off your robe, Vanessa? I want to see you more than I want to take my next breath.” His gaze was heavy with promise as he stared down at her. “I have no desire to wait for the painting
to be displayed somewhere to be able to admire your beauty."
Was it the fact she'd already posed for St. Claire that the idea did not alarm her? She wasn't sure just why it was so much easier than she expected to untie the sash on her dressing gown and slip out of it. Maybe it was the intense expression on her husband's face and the stark evidence of his desire for her.
Maybe it was the unusual response to his closeness and arousal. Before, when he approached her bed and she'd known what was going to happen, she'd been intimidated and misled.
Tonight, she felt much freer. Sexual desire, St. Claire had told her in his blunt, outrageous way, was natural, and she should listen to the signals from her body, not her mind.
It was enlightening advice if only she could follow it.
* * * *
His wife was not just gorgeous, she was exquisite in every way. Full ivory breasts tipped with rosy nipples, a slim dainty waist, and of course, that intriguing triangle of blond hair between her legs all drew his attention, but what Robert noticed most was, despite the flush in her smooth cheeks, she stood in almost defiant display with her chin lifted and her gaze expectant.
Considering the mistakes he'd made already, he tried to quell the wild beating of his heart and instead reached out a hand and let his fingers drift through the silky strands of her unbound hair. “The moment I saw you, I knew you had to be mine."
"Love at first sight?” Something flickered in her sapphire eyes.
"Something like that, I suppose.” Her hair was fragrant and warm and he wrapped the long strands around his hand and tugged her head back so he could skim the arch of her neck with his mouth. Her pulse fluttered fast and light in the delicate hollow of her throat and he pressed his lips there, saying a small prayer that it was excitement and not fear. He murmured against her skin, “Do you wish for me to explain female arousal?"
"Yes, please."
"My pleasure.” He'd never meant anything more in his life.
Phaze Fantasies, Vol. 5 Page 14