by P. F. Kozak
“Of course. When you are ready, I will see to it.” Peter took the sheath off and placed it on the night table, being careful not to spill its contents.
“Thank you for remembering the sheath. I’m afraid my preoccupations did not accommodate such practical concerns.”
“Nor did mine. However, I did remember in time.”
“I am a bit cold. Could you cover us with the quilt?”
“Certainly.” Peter dutifully spread the quilt over both of them. With the towel wedged between her legs, Pamela rolled over and snuggled in closer.
“I am so sleepy.”
Peter put his arm around her and gently kissed her. “Sleep then, my beautiful bride-to-be.”
Pamela closed her eyes and drifted into blissful sleep.
Chapter Fourteen
Peter woke to Lucy frantically pounding on the door. “Master Rennard, wake up! Master Rennard!”
Opening his eyes, he immediately squinted from the sunlight coming in the window. Pamela still slept, although with Lucy shouting outside his door, that wouldn’t be the case for long.
He found his dressing gown by the bed and quickly made his way to the door. Opening it, he found Lucy near tears. “Lucy, what on earth is the matter? Is someone hurt?” Fearing something might have happened to May or Jack, he stepped into the hall and closed the door. He did not want Pamela to overhear any unsettling news.
Lucy pointed to Pamela’s open door. “It’s Miss Pamela! Her bed hasn’t been slept in. She’s not in the library or anywhere in the house.” Her voice cracked. “Something must have happened to her. Where could she be?”
The awkwardness of the situation made Peter uncomfortable, but the humor did not escape him. He smiled in spite of his discomfiture, knowing the impossibility of keeping this a secret within his own house. “It’s all right, Lucy, she’s with me.”
“Pardon me, sir, she’s what?”
“She’s with me.” The utter shock on Lucy’s face actually made Peter laugh. “You don’t believe me?” Peter opened the door, to find Pamela awake and staring wide-eyed at the door, the quilt pulled up to her chin.
“Peter!” Pamela blushed a lovely shade of pink when she saw Lucy standing in the hall.
“Pams, Lucy thought you had disappeared. I had to prove to her you are alive and well in my room.” Peter crossed his arms over his chest. Looking from one redfaced female to the other, he found he quite enjoyed this licentious moment.
“Peter, for Lord’s sake, close the door!”
Rather than closing the door, he stepped in front of it, blocking Lucy’s view of the room. “Lucy, perhaps you should draw Miss Pamela a warm bath. She may want to freshen herself before breakfast.”
Lucy curtsied. “Yes, sir.”
“And Lucy…”
“Yes, sir?”
“Bring us a tray to my room. We will have our morning meal in here, once Pamela has bathed.”
“Yes, sir. Very good, sir.” Lucy curtsied again. As she left to draw Pamela’s bath, she strained to see in the room one more time. Peter obliged by stepping aside. He rather fancied the idea of Lucy seeing Pamela in his bed. Still chuckling over Lucy’s panic, he closed the door.
“Peter, what the bloody devil were you doing?” Pamela sat up in his bed, still holding the quilt under her chin.
“Lucy thought something had happened to you. Your bed had not been slept in and she couldn’t find you.”
“So you opened the door? Peter Rennard, I am naked in your bed!”
“I know.” Peter smiled as he took off his dressing gown. “I’m naked as well.”
Still obviously peeved, Pamela allowed herself to be distracted by Peter’s bold maneuver. “Peter, I am overcome by your modest reserve.” Even as she spoke, her eyes followed his torso down to his groin. His prick responded to her visual touch just as surely as it would to her hand.
“Pams, you do realise, what we are to one another has changed. I am no longer here to replace your father. We are lovers.”
Pamela relaxed her hold on the quilt. It sagged, revealing first the deep cleft between her breasts, and then falling to her waist, exposing them. He stared at her voluptuous beauty, his cock thickening at the sight of her.
“You told Lucy to draw me a bath?”
“I did. I thought perhaps the warm water would both soothe you and clean you, after being broken last night. Are you in any discomfort this morning?”
“I have some burning, but nothing terribly uncomfortable.” Pamela again focused on his groin, now heavy with a full erection. “I would rather freshen myself before we are again intimate. Perhaps you will join me while I bathe?”
Peter smiled. “Much as David looked upon the beauty of Bathsheba?”
“You do seem to take pleasure in seeing me.” Pamela threw back the quilt, allowing Peter a full view of her nakedness.
Without thinking, Peter stroked himself while taking her in. “Oh, yes, Pams, looking at you pleases me.”
“Then, come with me and look upon me as I bathe.”
Retrieving his dressing gown, he carefully concealed his prick and tied the sash securely. He gathered Pamela’s peignoir from the chair and brought it to her. Standing, she turned so Peter could help her slip her arms into the sleeves.
“Oh, dear!”
“What is it, Pamela?”
“I’ve soiled your bed.” Pamela pointed to a bloodstain beside the crumpled towel lying on the bed. “The towel must have dislodged once I fell asleep. I am so sorry.”
Her obvious embarrassment touched Peter. Wrapping his arms around her, he leaned in close to her ear. “Darling Pamela, I have never before had anything so beautiful grace my bed. That is a symbol of our connubial commitment. The law may not yet recognise our marriage, but the marriage of our spirits has been consummated.”
“Peter, do you mean that?”
“With all my heart, Pamela. No other woman has ever been to me what you are. To finally be able to say that outright is a blessing from heaven.”
“It is also a blessing from heaven, dear Peter, to know you desire me as much as I desire you.”
“Pamela, I daresay, more. Much, much more.”
“Let it always be so.”
“Considering over the last six years, I have lived with it every day, I do not expect it to diminish anytime soon!” Peter hugged her tightly. “Now, my lady, let us see to your bath.”
Peter escorted Pamela to the water closet. The door stood open. Lucy knelt over the tub, stirring scented salts into the water.
“Thank you, Lucy. That will be all.”
Lucy started when she heard Peter. Quickly standing, she wiped her hands on her apron. “Sir?” She turned to see Peter standing in the door, with Pamela beside him. Her eyes fixed on Pamela wearing nothing but her peignoir. “Miss?”
Pamela tried to explain. “Lucy, Peter will help me with my bath today.” Lucy stood immobilised, rendered speechless by the situation.
Peter again dismissed her. “Lucy, that will be all.”
“Peter…” Pamela’s chastising tone surprised him. Hugging her peignor tightly around her, Pamela walked across the room to where Lucy stood. “Lucy, things have changed. Master Rennard has asked me to marry him.”
Lucy’s shocked expression softened and a smile formed. “Miss, is it really true? You and the mister will be married?” Realising Peter still stood in the door, Lucy corrected herself. “Pardon me, miss. I spoke out of turn.”
“It’s all right, Lucy.” Pamela took her hand. “Yes, it is true. However, there are certain legal matters that must be addressed before we can marry. The wedding may not happen immediately.”
“Yes, miss.” Still smiling, Lucy curtsied. “I’ll be going now. I’ll tell May to fix a tray.”
Lucy hurried from the room, dodging Peter as she went through the door. Peter closed the door behind her.
“You know, she’s going to run to the kitchen and tell May.”
“And why shouldn’t s
he?” Pamela bent to test the water temperature. “Unless of course, you intend to withdraw the proposal.”
“Pamela, you know better than that. If I had my way, we would be arranging the church today.”
“Then why are you concerned? May will be happy we are marrying.”
“You don’t think Lucy will tell her about finding you in my room? I doubt May will be happy to know we have consummated our marriage before having the ceremony.”
“Oh.”
“You do have a remarkable gift for understatement.” Peter came over to where Pamela stood. “Your bath is cooling. You should take advantage of the warm water to soothe your soreness.”
Pamela put her arms around Peter’s neck. “You have to take off your dressing gown first.”
“And why is that?”
“You aren’t the only one who likes to watch.”
Peter smirked and shook his head. “Pamela, no one would believe that you could be so brazen.”
“I have always been this way with you.”
“Perhaps that’s why I fell in love with you years ago.”
“That’s the first time you’ve said you loved me.”
“I told you in that unsent telegram you read.”
“You wrote it. You have never said it.”
“Pamela Kingston, I do love you. Otherwise, I would not have asked you to be my wife.” Peter kissed her nose as he untied his dressing gown. “Of course, you also affect me in other ways.”
Pamela stepped back to better see him. “I am happy about that.”
“It is inconceivable to me, Pamela, that a woman of your breeding should be so lusty. I have only ever encountered this with common women, such as those at Nellie’s.”
Pamela opened her peignoir. Boldly, she walked up to Peter. Putting her arms around his neck, she pressed her naked body against his and kissed him. Without any reservation, Peter held her tightly against him and ardently returned her kiss.
Breaking the kiss, Pamela stepped back and allowed her gown to fall to the floor. With poised delicacy, she slowly stepped into her bath and lowered herself into the water. Peter picked up the peignoir and draped it over a chair in the corner. Coming back to Pamela, he knelt beside the deep, clawfoot tub.
Dipping his hand in the water, he rubbed her belly with his palm. “How do you feel, my lady? Do you have any pain?”
“There is no pain. The warm water is quite soothing.”
Peter slid his hand lower and lightly caressed the curls between her legs. “Then, might I help you spend? I did not see to you last evening and would quite enjoy doing so now.”
“What about you, Peter?”
“We will see to my needs later. It would give me tremendous pleasure to watch your excitement build in your bath.” Peter considered for a moment if he should tell her the whole truth. “Pamela, there are also things I have not yet done.”
Pamela feigned surprise and giggled. “Go on! A gentleman such as yourself? Why, captain, it seems by now there should be nothing you wouldn’t have done!”
Peter splashed her with water. “Yes, you silly moo, there are still things I have yet to do. Sharing a bath with a lady is one of them.”
“You really have never shared a bath?”
“No, I really haven’t.”
Pamela sat up, wrapped her wet arms around his neck, and playfully kissed him. “Then, I can be the first for you with some things?”
Caressing between her legs, he said softly, “Oh, yes, darling Pams, you certainly can.”
Pamela lowered herself back into the water and closed her eyes. “Peter, your touching me as you are is wonderful.”
“Show me how much you enjoy it, Pams. Let me see your arousal.”
Pamala murmured, “Nellie told me you like to watch women in their arousal.”
Peter rubbed her harder and Pamela squirmed. “Did she now? You learned much from Nellie.”
Pamela sighed. In a barely audible whisper, she said, “I want to learn more.”
“What you want to know you will learn from me, not from Nellie.” Peter carefully inserted his finger into her recently violated space. Pamela moaned. “Is there pain?”
“Oh, my, no! It is not pain I am feeling.”
Peter smiled and slowly slid his finger out and back into her. “Then show me what you are feeling, Pams.”
Pamela pressed down on his hand, wedging Peter’s finger in deeper. “Peter, get into the water with me.”
“Pamela, there isn’t room for both of us.”
“Nonsense! This is a sizeable tub. If you sit behind me, I can lean against you. Please, Peter, it will be wonderful.”
Doubtful that it would work, Peter reluctantly agreed. “Slide forward and we will try.”
Pulling her knees up to her chest, Pamela slid forward. Stepping into the tub behind her, Peter realised he did have enough space to lower himself into the water. Stretching his legs out on either side of Pamela, he settled back against the porcelain, still warm from Pamela’s skin.
“Are you properly in?” Pamela remained huddled in the centre of the tub.
“Dear Pams, last evening I was properly in. Now, I’m sitting behind you.”
Giggling, Pamela put her hands flat on Peter’s thighs and pulled herself backward. “See, I told you this would be simply grand.”
Peter wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her hair. “You are introducing me to pleasures I had never before conceived.”
“You see, I’ve learned much from what I’ve read.”
“Indeed. It seems so. Would you hand me that sponge floating in front of you?”
“Why, of course.” Pamela reached for the large bath sponge. She handed it to Peter, then again leaned back against his chest.
With deliberate care, Peter traced sensual circles around Pamela’s breasts before slowly moving down her belly. He felt Pamela’s breath change as he caressed her vulva with the sponge. As he squeezed her breast with one hand, he swabbed between her legs with the other.
Moving the sponge with a slow up-and-down motion, he could feel her respond. She picked up his rhythm and pressed back against him as he massaged her vulva. Never had he experienced anything quite like the sensation of her wet back rubbing against his thickened cock.
Leaning in close to her ear, he whispered, “Pamela, tell me about what you have read. Perhaps there is more we can do together.”
“Peter Rennard, you were ready to lock me up and throw away the key for reading such things. Now, you want to know what I’ve read?”
“Yes, I certainly do! Now that I understand you are such a curious woman, I want to know what interests you.” Peter opened his hand and the sponge floated away. Holding her tightly against him, he dipped his fingers into her fleshy crevice and rubbed. Pamela strained against his arm, trying to move. “I want you to spend, Pamela, I want to feel you spend.”
Pamela gasped as he continued to stroke her clitoris. She squirmed and thrashed, splashing water onto the floor. When her climax came, she shouted, “Peter!” and lifted her hips high in the water, her breasts floating above his arm. Her body shook with the force of her genital contractions. She quieted for a moment, and then her muscles contracted again, causing another wave of spasms.
The bath water had grown tepid. Peter could feel the gooseflesh on Pamela’s arms as she settled and leaned back against him. “Pams, you are getting chilled. Let us finish here and go back to my room.”
“But I want to satisfy you as you have me.”
“And you will, after we both warm ourselves.” Peter grabbed the sponge. “We must finish your bath.”
He quickly washed her back. Squeezing the sponge so that the water would rinse her, Pamela shivered. “The water is cool.”
“That is why I want to wrap you in a very warm towel. Stand up.” Pamela stood and Peter washed her legs. Kneeling behind her, he caressed her bum before he sponged it down. Even in the cool water, his erection hung heavily from his groin.
He stood behind her and put his arms around her waist. He pressed his cock into the crevice between her arse cheeks. “Pams, might I spend against you?”
“I would rather it be inside of me.”
“My dear, we will enjoy one another intimately often, I am sure. Now, it would please me to rub against you.” As he spoke, he pressed into her more forcefully, the soft cushion of her bum urging him on. “Push back, Pams. Move with me.”
With no hesitation, Pamela clenched her buttocks and swiveled her hips. Picking up his rhythm, she helped him along as he bumped against her. “Peter, I adore how you feel against me. Your member is so thick.”
Being too far gone to respond, Peter simply held her tighter and rubbed harder. As he felt the surge of hot fluid move in his bollocks, he grabbed her tit with one hand and held her tightly against him with the other.
Without regard to who in his house might hear him, he bellowed, “Sweet Christ! Yes! Bloody hell! Yes!” as he slammed himself into Pamela’s arse. She held steady while he unloaded his balls onto her backside.
Once Peter had his wind, he again found the sponge and finished cleaning both of them. Helping Pamela out of the tub, he noticed the pool of water on the floor. “I’m afraid we’ve made a bit of a mess in here. Lucy won’t be happy.”
Pamela smiled coyly. “Oh, I think she might be happier than you think.”
Peter wrapped a large towel around Pamela’s shoulders. “Perhaps so. Sorry to say, I doubt that happiness will spill over to May.”
“How angry do you think she might be?”
“Honestly, Pams, I do not know. We’ll have some food, and then speak to her.”
“Peter, perhaps I should speak to her alone. She is like my mum, after all.”
Peter picked up a towel for himself and wrapped it around his waist. “Pamela, I know you have always thought of her as such, understandably so. But I want you to remember, she is not your mum. She is our cook and housekeeper. She does not dictate what I do in my home. Nor does she have authority over you.”
“Nonetheless, I would like to speak to her alone. She will say to me privately what she would not say with you standing beside me.”