Fallen Angel

by Rose, D. L.

  Releasing one peak, he paid homage to the other. Eloise held herself to him, brushing her fingers through his hair, gently scoring him with her nails when he sucked hard. It stung but fueled her desire for more. Ben slid his hands beneath her dress--caressing and searching--until he reached her thigh. He massaged his way higher until his thumb brushed the warm jointure between her legs. She jerked at first but Eloise was fearless and knew the pleasure that would come. He stroked her gently until the thin cotton of her undergarments clung to her dampened folds. She moved against him involuntarily until she discovered a rhythm. Ben was happy to let her work herself into a frenzied state, he was already hard as a rock beneath her and each little tilt of her pelvis against his hand brought him closer to his breaking point.

  “Eloise love, it is time to be rid of these,” he tugged at the waist of her drawers. He shifted her to kneel over him, one knee on each side, while he loosened the tie and pulled them down her hips. He relished the feel of her bare skin and took his time sliding them down until she lifted one knee and then the other and he slipped them off tossing them to the floor.

  “The chair is not wide enough for you to straddle me. Place your feet on the chair like this,” he showed her.

  Eloise moved from her knees to her feet, sitting over him with her weight on her heels, leaving her vulnerably open and at his mercy. Her dress pooled around her hips, no longer covering her most private places, and Ben took full advantage. He went to work teasing and soothing he soft folds until his fingers shined like a freshly bitten peach. She was slick with need and as Ben caught her gaze he continued the torture, watching her eyes glaze over, her mind losing itself to the will of her body and its desire for satisfaction.

  “Imagine how often we will make love once we’re married Eloise. We can do this every day.” He dipped a finger into her warmth and she shuddered and closed her eyes. “We can play wicked games meant for lovers, make love all night long, and even steal away in the afternoons. We can buy a big tub for two and take long baths, rub soap all over each other, and wear nothing but bubbles. What do you think? All you have to do is say yes,” he caught her mouth in a kiss and didn’t let her go. She moaned as he made lazy circles with his thumb over her sensitive bud, and set a brutal pace between her thighs.

  Eloise was losing her grip on reality. She could hear his words, she knew what he was trying to do but all she could focus on--wanted to focus on--was his hand between her legs and the increasing fever building inside her. He was ruthlessly driving her towards the peak but it wasn’t coming fast enough. His steady pace worked anxiously towards that end, but she wanted more, she wanted him inside her, thick and hot like before. She groaned again, she wanted more, but clung to the moment knowing that soon she would reach it. He pushed her and pushed her, her body clinging to his hand, bathing his fingers in her essence until finally he slipped in another finger, filling her, and stretching her. Blissfully he pushed her over the peak and she fell with the waves of climax into a temporary heaven.

  She cried out and Ben covered her mouth with his. He had worked himself into a sweat and a painful arousal while pushing her to completion but it wasn’t over yet. She was limp against him, her head rolling on his shoulder as he reached for the placket on his trousers and released his engorged flesh. Rubbing himself against her slick entrance, he nearly groaned as he used one hand to lift her hips and the other to guide himself. She sank down smoothly, now relaxed and lubricated by her own completion. He seated himself fully, clenching his teeth against the need to drive into her exquisite tightness.

  Eloise reflexively tightened even more. She was emerging from her pleasured daze with the sensation of his fullness inside her. She had very little control of the movement between them, giving him full control of their rhythm. He began to move slowly, showing her how it would feel in this new position. Eloise buried her face in his neck and gripped his collar tightly. Each thrust was languid and filling. He moved in a slow steady rhythm reawakening the fires, fanning her satiation into need again. He increased the tempo steadily until they were both breathing harshly, her hands clinging to his broad shoulders, his to her hips. He played with different angles until he found one that made her whimper with want after each thrust. He built her up again, stoking her, torturing her, promising her relief from the inferno of need inside her. He brought himself to the brink over and over--clenching his teeth-- locking his muscles--even holding his breath to keep from losing control before her. He did not have to wait long. Eloise began to use her legs to increase their pace until they clung helplessly to each other, racing towards the moment that would take them to the edge and fling them over into oblivion. It felt like forever, they were both slick with sweat when finally Eloise cried out, bit her lip, and groaned into his neck with release. He followed her quickly, letting go of the tension and his control and allowing his body to find release. He shuddered all around her, holding on to her hips as he pumped into her, prolonging his climax until he was breathless and weak.

  They dozed on the waves of satiation until Eloise began to rouse. Her legs were beginning to cramp and needed to stretch. She lifted herself from him but he wouldn’t let her go far. She twisted on his lap until she leaned back against his chest, legs tangling with his. Their breathing calmed, their thoughts returned to the present and finally Ben spoke.

  “Don’t deny what we found here Eloise. Many couples loath the sight of each other, let alone, find the satisfaction we have. It won’t be perfect, no marriage is, but we will find a balance between us.”

  “We do loath the sight of each other,” Eloise corrected.

  “I have never loathed the sight of you, I have been wholly befuddled by you, disapproved of your behavior at times, and been tricked by you,” he tickled her side and was reward with a wiggle, “but I have never loathed you. Do you loath me?”

  “Truthfully I did, but now… I find you tolerable,” she could feel him scowling behind her and she smiled. “I guess you are right in the regard that us being intimate has already improved our relationship.”

  “Is that so minx? Does that mean you will consent to marry me?”

  Eloise sat up and turned to face him, “What about Eleanor?”

  “What about Eleanor? Does she know what transpired at the ball?”

  “Yes, she knows, but will you let her remain here no matter what?”

  “Absolutely, I would never turn Eleanor away. She may remain as long as she wishes though if we marry, I expect she will desire a marriage and family of her own.”

  “As a matter of fact she and Jasper wish to be married. He left to get things in order on his father’s farm and will return for her.”

  “The secretary?” Ben said in surprise.

  “Don’t be stuffy; he is a very nice fellow.”

  “Next you will tell me she is carrying his child,” Ben teased.

  Eloise was silent and bit her lip.

  “Oh bloody hell,” he cursed, “Is Uncle Malcolm aware of anything that goes on around here?”

  “Not particularly, but to be fair, I only found out today.”

  Eloise stood and began to get dressed. Ben did the same and helped her button the back of her gown. Once finished he turned her to face him, hands on her shoulders.

  “Enough is enough Eloise, what is your answer?”

  Eloise looked deep into his eyes. He was dead serious about his offer and despite her previous dislike, she was rather confused by all the softer, warmer, emotions he now elicited. He was offering more than she could have ever expected or dreamed. The whole situation was surreal and she was hesitant to accept it at face value and yet, she wanted to whole heartedly. She would be tethered to him for life when only a few days ago she could barely stand the sight of him. But when she looked inside herself, it was like a door had opened and the future was mysterious but no longer scary. She was nodding before the words crossed her lips. “Yes.”

  Ben pulled her into a tight hug and spun her around. Relief, joy, elatio
n, too many emotions battled for ground but all he knew was that she said yes, and it felt good. He kissed her fiercely before setting her back on her feet and pulling the key from his pocket.

  “I believe you earned this,” he handed it to her and together they left the library.

  It was odd how the rest of the house seemed so quiet and ordinary when so much had happened. They turned at the sound of footsteps coming down the hall and found Uncle Malcolm on the way to his study.

  “Oh hello Benjamin, Eloise, hard at work on those ledgers I assume? Ghastly business about that fire, Stanwick told me all about it in the kitchens. All seems to have ended well, luckily?”

  “Yes Uncle Malcolm, in fact,” Ben looked at Eloise, “if I could have a word with you.”

  “Certainly my boy.”

  Ben waved them to the study but Eloise did not follow.

  “If you will excuse me, I still need to change and freshen up after the fire.” They both nodded in understanding and as they turned away Eloise slipped the key into her pocket, a memento, and retreated to her room.

  Epilogue

  Five months later.

  Eloise lifted her chest as she drew the bow string back and focused on the target. Her exercise was limited to archery and walks--always with an escort--now that she was with child and could no longer ride. She took her shot right as the babe gave a good kick, causing her arrow to go wide, nearly missing the target all together.

  She sighed. She was wearing and empire wasted gown that still camouflaged her changing body but every day there was a new sensation or experience. Eloise was not used to having such little control of her body. Placing a loving hand on her growing belly she scrutinized the target and thought about her stance.

  She was interrupted by a shout and turned to the source. A man, a gentleman by the looks of his expertly tailored tweed jacket and brown breeches, was striding towards her from the direction of the stables. She waited while he approached her and tried to appear serenely patient even though she needed to use the chamber pot—again—for the sixth time that morning.

  “Can I help you my lord?” She spoke once he was within speaking distance. She did not recognize him, although with his plain brown hair and average features, he would not be easy to remember.

  “I am looking for Lord Black? I understand he is now living here with his uncle, Malcolm Pommoroy?”

  “Yes that is true, are you an acquaintance?”

  “Yes, we’re good chums from town and the like, I’ve been traveling these past months and wanted to catch up on some business. Are you … forgive me, but are you the younger Miss Logan?

  “Well yes, but—.”

  “Well color me lucky; I’ve heard of you Miss Logan, Black did not do you justice when he described you.”

  “I see my reputation precedes me.” Eloise said but her sarcasm was lost on him. He was looking at her oddly when he stepped closer and leaned forward.

  “I find myself quite at a loss of words Miss Logan, you are quite beautiful.”

  Oh dear. Eloise tried not to roll her eyes. Her patience was very thin these days and her body was practically screaming with the need to relieve its self.

  “As the ward to your eccentric uncle,” he stepped even closer as if about to impart great knowledge, “I imagine you are free to associate with whomever you choose, to whatever degree you desire.” His hand reached up ever so stealthily and brushed against her breast.

  Eloise—reflexively—punched the lecherous scoundrel in the eye. He reeled back with a yelp and stumbled, landing on his rear. Eloise turned and walked away. Up ahead she could see Ben, having returned from business in the village, running towards her. As they met on the lawn he grabbed her shoulders in concern.

  “Are you all right?” He said alarmed, he scanned her head to toe--as he did multiple times a day—looking for imaginary injuries.

  “I am fine. My hand needs some ice and your child is dancing a jig on my bladder so if you please, my love, I would like to retire to my room. Your friend will need a lesson in keeping his hands to himself if you don’t mind.”

  Ben had the look of a man ready to commit murder when he looked over her head and saw the gentleman in question sitting up and shaking his wits in place. “That bloody son of a—.”

  “Calm down dear, he does not know I’m your wife, which is no excuse for his bold actions, but no real harm was done.” Eloise swiftly kissed his cheek and then all but ran for the house. She did not look back to see how her husband dealt with the gentleman, whoever he was, and did not care at the moment. She would hear all about it later from her maid.

  Having barely made it to her room and necessary business, Eloise collapsed on the bed sighing, and relished the joy of an empty bladder--at least for the next hour or so. Her life had changed drastically since that night of the Sinners’ Masquerade and she loved every minute of it. Eleanor was married and living on a farm with her husband. She was happy there with Jasper and his family, surrounded by loving people, and acre upon acre of lavender and sheep. Her pregnancy was progressing well and Eleanor was flourishing in the roll of wife and soon to be mother. Eloise was comforted by the knowledge that Jasper’s mother, a warm and lovely woman, would be there to guide her through it and aide her. As for Eloise, she disliked her delicate condition and anxiously awaited the day when she could hold her little bundle in her arms. She would show him or her all the beauty of Pommoroy Place, Coltwyth village, the magic of walking barefoot in the meadows, reading beneath the old oaks, and riding like the wind.

  Sneak Peek

  Book one of my series Fated for Love

  Mine, All Mine

  By D. L. Rose

  Chapter 1

  London

  Tuesday, April 2nd 1816.

  Dominic Coel, Earl of Redwick, sat impatiently in the somber office of Lord Douglas, chief of foreign affairs to the Prince Regent. Dominic had only been out of his service for three months and yet here he was again, asked to serve his country after a decade of bloodshed and near death exploits. He had begun to wonder what he had fought for. Dominic never picked up a rifle and charged into battle, no, his talents were slightly more sinister than that. His battle grounds consisted of back alley taverns only the roughest criminals dared to enter. If someone had information needed by the crown, Dominic knew exactly how to get it.

  He could hear the shallow tap of Lord Douglas’s boot heels coming down the hall. The door opened silently and Lord Douglas took his place behind the large mahogany desk littered with papers.

  “I trust you know why I have sent for you Redwick?”

  Dominic spared him a glance then returned to scrutinizing his finely trimmed nails. “No Lord Douglas I do not, my service to the crown ended three months ago. Why I have been called upon once again, I have no idea. Would you care to explain?” He pinned Lord Douglas with a freezing stare.

  Lord Douglas, for the first time in his life, was at a loss for words. He had never feared any man before now and though the man sitting before him was of the bluest blood, he had heard stories about the ruthlessness of Dominic Coel. The man looked like the devil. He had jet-black hair, an aristocratically angular face, and eyes of a cold crystal blue that could freeze the very blood running through one’s veins with a single look. He had been a deadly asset to the crown, but now that he had taken his place as Earl of Redwick in society, they needed him for a much more delicate matter.

  “I am aware that you have many pressing matters to attend to as the new Earl of Redwick, but there has been a situation that needs to be investigated with the delicacy and secrecy only you can achieve. It is a matter of treason and it cannot go unnoticed any longer.”

  “What is it you expect me to do?”

  “I need you to find a missing girl. She is the daughter of the late Duke of Cranbury and disappeared when Mr. Hollow, her stepfather, committed treason. He was a small shipping merchant until he began moving cargo of a different nature,” Lord Douglas leaned forward.

&n
bsp; “What does the girl have to do with it?” Dominic exhaled in weary acceptance.

  “We are not precisely sure, but her sudden disappearance from society in which she is very well known is alarming. She either knows the whereabouts of her stepfather … or of the missing jewels.”

  “Jewels?” Dominic said derisively, “I am not taking part of any duck hunt for jewelry Lord Douglas.”

  Lord Douglas gritted his teeth in annoyance, “This is not just any piece of jewelry. This necklace is a priceless gift from the King of Spain himself and a French spy has taken it. We found his body in the Thames. We found a note in his coat containing precise instructions to do so, leading us to Mr. Hollow, who we can only assume now has the necklace. We have lost enough to the French--we will not lose this. It is a symbol of our victory over France and future alliance with Spain. It is your duty Redwick!” Lord Douglas slammed his fist on his desk for emphasis. He seemed embarrassed by his loss of composure and sat back in his chair, nervously wiping the beads of sweat from his forehead with his sleeve.

  Dominic watched him idly, slightly amused by his patriotic fervor, or was it greed that led this passion for justice? Dominic could no longer tell where loyalty ended and political ambitions began.

  “Find the girl and find the necklace. All that we ask is as you go about your usual society affairs you simply drop a question here or there, listen for any talk and such. Someone has to know where the young woman is, she cannot have dropped off the face of the earth. Her options would be limited to matrons and close friends. Someone must know and you are the best man to find the truth.

  “Do I have any choice in the matter?” Dominic asked sarcastically.

  “No,” Lord Douglas glared hard at the arrogant young earl, “You are on orders from the Prince himself. You may go now, keep me updated with any information.”