The Natural (Afternoon Delights Book 1)

by Bethany Aan

  The Natural

  Book One in the Afternoon Delight novella series

  An original novel by

  Bethany Aan

  Copyright © January 2013 by Bethany Aan

  Cover Art:

  (Sex Act Stock Photo) Image courtesy of imagerymajestic/ FreeDigitalPhotos.net Rose_galaxy.jpg/nasa.gov All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means

  electronic or mechanical, including information storage and retrieval systems,

  without prior written consent of the author.

  Exceptions will be made for reviewers or bloggers, who may quote short excerpts in reviews.

  Contact: Bethanyaanerotica@gmail.com

  The Natural is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and events are purely the imagination of the author.

  A Note from the Author:

  It takes many months of long, hard hours

  as well as lot of neglect toward the household and the husband

  to create a book like this.

  Please respect the work of the author

  and all those who support me

  by purchasing additional copies if you wish to share.

  Thanks, and enjoy!

  Chapter One Christine ran through the woods bordering the garden, anxious to see her father’s newest guests. He was always hosting someone, though his taste in ‘friends’ was sometimes rather questionable. She might be a sheltered young woman, but she knew unsavory characters when she saw them. And she saw many of them here.

  Still, it was boring on the estate, and she wasn’t allowed out into the community without a full guard, and who could have any fun with them in tow? Her father claimed that the guard was there to protect the settlement, not her, since things just seemed to go a bit awry whenever she was around. It infuriated him any time she had to be called before him to answer for her mischief.

  Her father had a ‘children should be seen and not heard, and preferably not even seen’ attitude. It had carried from her childhood into her young adulthood. She was now of marriageable age, but her father’s interest in her life was almost non-existent. Sometimes she despaired of ever making a match. She’d give just about anything to leave this tiny satellite moon of Sandarra and see more of the galaxy. She’d love to fly amongst the stars, meet new and interesting people, races, species. Here, she only saw the occasional snaffle or gorgo from a distance, and those weren’t the least bit interesting.

  She panted as she reached the hedges bordering the landing pad and hunkered down to peek between the leaves. A sleek, muscular ship had settled on the pad, a stairwell lowering from it to the flagstones. Christine had never seen this ship before, but she got a funny feeling looking at it. Like adventure was waiting just past its hatch, if she were only brave enough to take the necessary steps forward. Her heart pounded with the thought of being so daring, so bold.

  Two men walked down the stairs leading from their ship. One was tall and golden, the other shorter, husky and dark-haired. Both were intimidating, self-assured, and had the look of... pirates.

  Her eyes widened with excitement. She’d bet anything they were pirates. She sighed. It was always criminals of some sort or another. Whether on this world or the next, pirates always seemed to carry themselves the same way: vigilant, confident, and as though they knew they could take everything in their sight, they just chose not to. These two looked as though they could take over the entire moon, if they wanted.

  Christine had always suspected that her father’s riches came from less than savory means, but he’d kept her away from most of the dealings. Not because he particularly cared what happened to her, but because even he knew that if she were defiled, he’d never get a good bride price for her, would indeed have trouble divesting himself of her unless he allowed her to step down from their noble status. He was too proud for that.

  She watched as he now greeted the fellows with hearty handshakes and his best ‘I’m a great guy, let’s talk business’ grin. The pirates didn’t smile back. They simply waited, keeping conversation to a minimum. She strained to hear what they were saying, but couldn’t.

  “Blast it!” she growled. But she dared not creep any closer. Her father would be angry, and he wasn’t very nice when he was angry. It didn’t happen often, but when it did, there were tears and bruises. She shuddered, remembering the last time. It was just one more reason to find a way to get off this rock, and start her life somewhere else, far away from his influence and his stifling rules.

  Scooting carefully backwards to keep from rustling the leaves, she made her way back to the garden, puzzling over the newest arrivals. As far as she knew, there hadn’t been a massive surge in harvesting recently, which usually preceded these visits, and there hadn’t been a recent drop- shipment that might indicate other dealings. So what were the men here for?

  Shaking her head in frustration, she hurried up to her room via the servants’ stairs. She was in one of her ‘hiding’ outfits, as she liked to think of them. The dress was tight in all the wrong places up top, smashing her breasts to camouflage their size, loose in the waist to hide how nipped-in it really was, and shapeless from there down, not allowing anyone to guess at the figure underneath. She even went a step further and made sure that she kept a smudge of dirt on her face, as well as keeping her hair rather scraggly and unkempt looking. Her nurse, Tilde, was the only person who knew what she truly looked like, and that was only because she couldn’t stand to be confined to those ridiculous clothes or keep herself unwashed, unless absolutely necessary.

  She’d managed so far to fool even her father into thinking that she was less than average in the looks department. It was all in hopes that he would find her a nice, scholarly man to take her on, instead of one of the profligate noblemen that tended to hang around him. Their appetites were... troubling. She didn’t know much about those appetites, but she knew that many of the house maids cringed when her father threw his ‘parties’. Many of them went about their duties the following day with bruises, cuts, and stiffness that spoke of ill use. She had never been able to get one of them to admit to what that ‘use’ entailed. Of course, her father would lock her in her room for the duration of those parties so that she would remain somewhat innocent.

  She halted on the stairs with a gasp.

  What if these two men were a prelude to one of those parties? Groaning, she thought about all the things she wanted to do before she was shut away for a week or more, with only her nurse to talk to or keep her company. She had a day or two, however. Her father liked to put up a front of refinement, so hisparties always started with a very civilized dinner. She didn’t know if that would be the case this time, but she knew that if it was, she would be expected to play hostess, come dinner time. Looking down at her soiled gown, she sighed. She’d have to clean up a bit and change clothes before that could happen. Bolting up the stairs, she raised her skirts a bit higher than was decent, but then again, no one was around to see or care.

  Or so she’d thought. She hit the second landing at a sprint, turning into a blind corner. She ran smack into a hard, muscular chest. The impact took her breath away, bounced her back against the wall. A big, work-roughened hand reached out to keep her from tumbling backwards down the stairs.

  “Careful!” a man chuckled. His voice was deep, rich, and sent shivers right through her. “Wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.”

  “Thank you,” she murmured, looking up at him through her tousled bangs.

  Oh, stars! It was one of the pirates. She gasped and shrank back against the wall, tugging her arm from his grip. Then she colored as she realized that such an action migh
t insult him. But he didn’t seem insulted. Indeed, he simply arched a brow and grinned at her, as though he found her maidenly reaction amusing.

  “Where are you running in such a hurry?” he asked, leaning back against the opposite wall. He looked relaxed, but she sensed that he could move with lightning quickness to detain her, if he so desired.

  “I’m certain that’s none of your concern,” she said haughtily, pulling her noble bearing around her like a shield. The other eyebrow went up and the grin widened.

  “You’d be surprised,” he murmured, so softly that she wasn’t sure she’d heard him. He reached out slowly, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. She stood there in shock, stunned by his boldness.“You are quite lovely. Beautiful. I expected otherwise.”

  “I am not!” she snorted, flipping a strand of kinky, teased dark hair over her shoulder. She knew very well what she looked like, thank you! Then the rest of what he said soaked in. “You... expected?” she asked, not sure why her pulse was suddenly racing. How could he have expected anything of her? He had only just set eyes on her.

  He leaned forward just a bit, looking at her carefully. His eyes seemed to burn deep into her, past the cosmetic smudges and purposely awful hair. Blue eyes wandered down her shoulders, taking in the horrible dress. He would lose interest very quickly now, she knew. But oh, gods... his scent enveloped her, an enticing blend of spices and cleanser. And something else that was just ‘man’. She’d never smelled anything like it, and it made her just a bit dizzy. She had rarely been this close to such a young, handsome man. Most of her father’s guests were older, dirtier, or just creepy. This man was rather lovely, in a masculine sort of way. Her stomach did a slow, rolling turn that seemed to affect her heart rate at the same time, and she stared at him mutely.

  The tiny smile he was giving her told her very clearly that while she might have the settlement fooled, he knew that she was hiding herself from the world, and looked like the kind of man who would take much pleasure in searching for the real woman beneath the mask.

  And for a startling moment, she desperately wanted him to find out. He was so very handsome, so compelling, and so strong and muscular... she felt herself growing wet between her legs as she wondered what it would be like to be naked and pressed up against all that brawn. She hadn’t seen or heard much of the acts of love between men and women, but she knew that they involved bare flesh and closeness.

  Suddenly alarmed at her own thoughts, as well as his cryptic words, Christine sidled down a stair, keeping him in her sights. Where was her father? He’d never allowed the guests to just roam the house before, for this very reason. Much could happen in little time, if she wasn’t careful.

  “Of course I had expectations,” he said with a shrug, going back to their conversation. “Your father sings your praises, you know.”

  “My father has no idea what those praises would be,” she snorted inelegantly, crossing her arms in front of her. Then she reddened, realizing what she’d given away. Why in the world had she told him something like that?

  “Your father,” he said derisively, “Is a bastard. A greedy one, at that.” He stared at her for a long moment then murmured, “But this time, I believe the price is indeed a bargain. I believe you might be worth it.”

  “What are you talking about?” she breathed, though she was afraid she was going to find out all too soon. Price? What in the name of the stars had her father done this time, and why in the world would it involve her? The answers to that were too frightening to focus on at the moment. Her heart raced a bit harder, this time with more fear than excitement.

  “No matter,” he said, waving the issue away and taking her arm to tuck into his. As though he were nothing more than a gentleman leading a lady. His elbow brushed her breast and she sucked in a sharp breath, her startled gaze flying to his face. He looked completely innocent, but he was a pirate, wasn’t he? Either way, she was sure he was anything but naive. Perhaps it had been an accident. But she doubted it. Her hardened nipple brushed painfully against the rough wool of her tunic. She stared up at him, fascinated, entranced, frightened, confused, and excited in a way she had never experienced before.

  “You keep looking at me like that, love, and you’ll end up debauched right here in this stairwell.”

  She gasped as his meaning sank in, and tried to jerk her arm from his. He kept a firm grip, managing to somehow change positions so that she was suddenly pressed up against the wall, both of his arms bracketing her, one leg pressing between hers, holding her in place easily. Her breath came in shallow pants, her heart thundering. His lips were very, very close to hers.

  “Or is that what you want?” he whispered. Those lips brushed against hers, so softly that she wasn’t sure she hadn’t imagined it. She tried to form a protest, but his chest pressing against hers stifled her breath. “You are so very sweet. Untouched, but more importantly, unawakened, I think. I sense a great deal of passion and curiosity in you. Gods above, but this is going to be a treat.”

  With no more warning than that, he took her mouth. Gently at first, as though he knew she was untried and didn’t have the first clue what to do. She was so shocked that she couldn’t respond immediately. By the time she’d summoned the energy and wit to do so, however, he’d nibbled his way to the corner of her mouth, where his tongue flicked, tickling her in a most intriguing way. Tingles shot from that spot down to the tips of her breasts, and beyond, setting up a rather delightful hum between her legs.

  Her gasp at the new and incredible sensation was all the invitation he needed, and when her mouth opened, he swooped in to claim her, his tongue thrusting, hot and wet, against hers. Her cry was stifled as sensation washed through her. Her knees weakened, her nipples hardened against his chest. She couldn’t remember, for the life of her, why she should protest. Good heavens, but this felt lovely.

  Relaxing a bit, she found her center brought against his thigh, the wet core of her throbbing as he rubbed his leg back and forth. She threw her head back as his lips trailed an intoxicating line from her mouth to her ear. Her hands came up to clasp his shoulders. She felt his palms grasp her hips, then slide up and up, until they reverently cupped her breasts.

  “Oh my!” she squeaked, shocked, and looked down to see him staring hungrily at the tops of her breasts as they plumped over the squared neckline of her tunic. She had the distinct feeling that he was well aware that the small mounds showing were only the tip of the proverbial iceberg, and that there was much more to her beneath the loose outfit. His breathing was harsh, hot, and the look in his eyes made her feel like a long-awaited dessert, ready for devouring.

  He shook himself and stepped back from her, his gaze moving to her face.

  “Your father swears you are untried,” he said suspiciously. “But you kiss as though you’ve done so before.”

  She reddened and shook her head.

  “I... just reacted,” she murmured, looking down, ashamed of her wanton behavior. “I’m sorry if it was not what you... expected.”

  “Oh, it was good,” he assured her, a finger beneath her chin lifting her gaze to his own. “It was very good. I just didn’t expect so much passion. You seem to be a natural at this. We will deal very well together, I think.”

  She cocked her head, her wits returning through the fog of sexual awakening.

  “What do you mean?” she asked, all of her suspicions returning. He arched a brow at her and crossed his arms over his hard chest.

  “The agreement,” he said, as though she should know.

  “What agreement?” she demanded, nervous trembling shaking her legs. What had her father done?

  “Ah. I see your father has not told you of what’s to happen. I take it you are not packed yet, either?” He sighed. “I had planned to return to the skies this evening, but if we must wait for you to pack… So be it. Just don’t take any of those horrible dresses. You will have much better to replace them as soon as we reach a decent port.”

  She st
ared at him, aghast.

  “What are you talking about?” she cried in frustration and a bit more fear, backing away from him up the stairs. He merely watched her, realizing that she did not know of what was to come. The poor girl. He hated fathers who did this to their daughters.

  “You are to be Trained,” he told her flatly.

  The blood drained from her face.

  “That can’t be true,” she whispered, stunned. “He wouldn’t do that. Why keep me sheltered and raise me a lady, only to have me Trained?”

  Tears now shimmered in her beautiful green eyes, and Drake watched her carefully. He had wondered the same thing. It was usually the families that were destitute that wanted their daughters and sons Trained. Not girls from established noble families. But the price she could command once Trained, being a lady instead of a pauper... she was beautiful, sweet, and passionate. With the right tutelage, she would make an incomparable courtesan, perhaps even a cherished and prized bride. And he would now accept her bride price, instead of her father.

  He had Trained many young women over the years, but he had never had a virgin entrusted to him. He had done many things to those girls, taught them as many pleasures of the flesh as he knew, taught them how to pleasure both women and men, but he one thing he had never done was take a woman against her will, even if her family accepted his price.

  It was the one thing he would never do.

  However, he was beginning to suspect that the pleasant and amiable Baron Ranier was a facade for a much darker and depraved personality. He’d sensed it out in the courtyard, in the waythe man’s servants shrank back from him. Their reactions told Drake more than perhaps the ‘honorable’ duke wanted known.

  Watching the small young woman carefully, Drake reached out with his senses once more, delving deeper than he had so far, and found an alarming darkness within her, caused by the man who had sired her. What in the world had the duke done to her? Drake’s jaw clenched in quiet fury at the possibilities.