Ascension

by A. S. Fenichel

  He moved forward, rubbed himself against her and pressed his thigh between her legs.

  Her heart raced.

  He moaned and closed his eyes. His strained expression, the crease of his brow and shortened breath, warmed her from the inside.

  Her body ached at the sight of his arousal. She raised her hips, and he moaned again. So much power flowed through her. With every moan from his lips, her skin vibrated wanting more.

  Her breath caught on the jolt of pleasure. I need to stop him, send him home. She clung to his shoulders pulling him closer, lifting her hips higher.

  More.

  His eyes snapped open. He rolled to her side. “Too fast, Bella.”

  Immediately, she missed his weight on top of her. Stay focused. Do not get caught up in his web.

  He untied the ribbon on her robe and pushed both sides apart. His hand, tanned to a honey brown, skimmed over her cotton chemise.

  Everywhere he touched burned and she wanted more.

  He removed her robe and chemise quickly, leaving her completely bared to his watchful eyes.

  She had been raised a lady. Every instinct told her to grab a sheet and cover herself. But she really didn’t want to. Her body ached for more and if she allowed him, he would give her what she yearned for. Aroused and womanly, she grasped for control. But like a petal in a windstorm, it was impossible to find balance.

  “My god, Bella, you are beautiful.”

  His eyes traveled down her body to her legs and widened as he ran his hand along the her thigh muscle and then up again tracing along her fingers to her upper arm and along the cut in her muscle there. His eyes met hers. “Have you taken up some kind of sport that is taxing to your body since I have been away?”

  The muscles were aberrant. Though necessary for her survival, she hid them from society under the guise of modesty. For the first year, she wouldn’t even look at herself in the mirror. Avoiding her reflection became a habit. Her insides twisted and her chest ached while embarrassment burned behind her eyes. How could I have let this get this far?

  She turned to the side and tried to pull the covers over herself, but it stuck under his body.

  He pushed away the sheet. “No, Bella.”

  “Just take your ten minutes and go.” She hated the catch in her voice. And more than that, hated how much power he possessed over her emotions.

  “I’m sorry if I led you to believe that I am displeased with what I see.” His lips pressed against her chest just below her collarbone. “You are beautiful.” He kissed the top of her breast and trailed his tongue across to the nipple, took it into his mouth and tugged gently.

  She arched up regardless of her attempt not to react.

  He suckled her tenderly and his eyes never strayed from her face.

  He released her flesh and blew gently on the moistened skin. The act sent tingles to every inch of her body and she gasped. She would have sworn she felt it in her toes. His tongue continued its path down her abdomen dipping in her belly button. She cried his name and immediately a new surge of moisture flooded between her legs.

  “If something is unpleasant, Bella, you must tell me.”

  “I…” Lie and tell him it is all unpleasant. She should send him away as quickly as possible but his mouth and his fingers gliding over her stomach and down her legs made her delirious with desires she had never felt before. “I…It is not unpleasant.”

  “I’m glad to hear that.” His voiced rang with laughter.

  His amusement should have annoyed her, but his hands distracted her away from any offense.

  She tingled with pleasure. She closed her eyes, experiencing the bliss brought by every touch and kiss.

  He lightly tickled the inside her thigh coaxing her legs further apart. He touched the delicate folds of her most private part.

  The delight shot through her. Guilt pounded her mind and forced her eyes open. “Gabriel, you should not be doing that.”

  He stopped the gentle sliding motion, but did not remove his fingers from her dripping center.

  “You do not like it?”

  “I…I do not know.” His touch made it impossible to devise a suitable response.

  “Relax, love. Trust me.”

  He touched her again, manipulating her slick folds and swirling around her opening.

  Pressure built low in her abdomen, hips and between her legs where he touched her. Pleasure swamped her and she clutched the sheets. She tried to relax as he’d commanded, but still her muscles tightened.

  His fingers opened her and then something wet was inside her.

  She was about to scold him for breaking his promise, but he had not penetrated her as she had seen the demons doing in their lairs. His dark head rested between her legs. His tongue was inside her lapping her juices. She tried to say no, but the pleasure grew to the point that her complaint died on her lips.

  Needing more, she threw back her head and arched closer to the source of pure delight.

  He nibbled at her gently with his teeth and ran his tongue up and down her slit.

  The tightness in her stomach and hips built higher and higher. She trembled with need.

  Gabriel continued, relentlessly nipping, sucking and licking her until she reached the crest and tumbled over into ecstasy. Waves of rapture tumbled her higher than she had ever dreamt of or imagined.

  He pushed hard against her bud, and she lifted her hips crushing her center to his face. With one last lick, he sat up beaming down at her. His eyes shone with passion.

  “Are you all right, Bella?”

  She lifted up onto her elbows. “That was…I do not know what that was.”

  He touched her cheek. “That was an orgasm, my love. Something I hope to share with you many, many times.”

  She had lost control, and the pleasure still buzzed inside her. If she lost her grasp so completely, would he? Her cheeks warmed. “Does this happen to you also?”

  His smile was contagious. “Under the right circumstances it does.”

  “I see.” Feeling shy, she pulled the sheet and covered herself.

  His smile faded. “You’re going to send me away.”

  “I think it would be best.” Even as she said the words, she wished things were different and she could let him take her as a husband takes his wife. She wanted to feel him inside her, but his proximity to her only put him in danger, and if she hoped to protect him, she had to send him away.

  “I see,” he said.

  “I’m sorry.” The feeble apology was not sufficient.

  He smiled. “Oh, Bella.” He touched her cheek and kissed the top of her head as he rose from the bed. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I wanted to give you pleasure, and if your cries were any indication, then I have done that well. I would wait another four years to hear you come that way again. But I hope I shall not have to.”

  He moved toward the window where he had entered.

  She stood and wrapped herself in the sheet. “Gabriel, go out the front door. It is far less dangerous, and as you noted earlier, no one is about the house to see you.”

  When he turned toward her, it took every ounce of her strength to resist asking him to stay.

  He unlocked her door and walked into the dark corridor.

  Chapter 2

  Belinda’s face in total rapture had been perfection. If only he could separate that spectacular part of the evening from his memory of her sneaking into the house through the garden, covered in filth and bruised as if she’d been struck across the face. What was she up to?

  He’d ignored the mountain of paperwork on the desk in his study for far too long. His secretary had handled the business while he was fighting in France, but some things had been put on hold and now he tackled the arduous task of putting things back in order.

  Unfortunately his fiancée’s less than warm welcome home a few weeks earlier had caused him to spend a great deal of his time speculating about what had
happened while he was away. He had discreetly asked around town and no one had noticed anything strange or different about her. Lady Belinda still attended balls and occasionally she and her mother attended the theatre. There was no gossip about her taking up with a man, and he did not wish to create a scandal by asking too many questions.

  It wouldn’t look good if Lady Belinda’s fiancé, just back from war, appeared nervous about the lady’s virtue. He was sure she would never forgive him if he ruined her reputation with his zealous curiosity. It was the last thing he wanted to do. All he wanted was the sweet girl he’d left behind four years earlier, but thus far, she did not exist.

  After the intimacies of the night before, he was convinced she remained a virgin but was no longer innocent of heart. Something had changed in her eyes as well as in her manner. They were no longer the clear, loving eyes that had looked up at him with purity. He’d seen the change happen to boys when the horrors of war turned them into men but he couldn’t explain the change in a lady of Belinda’s rank. She had all the conveniences a woman in her position could hope for. What could have initiated the change, and where had she been before their meeting in the garden?

  I suppose I am changed as well. He sighed.

  Left by his butler and ignored for more than an hour, the silver dish at the edge of his desk held several pieces of correspondence and invitations to upcoming balls and events. He had to attend some of them if only to keep an eye on Belinda, but there was also his sister to consider. Selina had come out only a few weeks before and she and his mother were rapturous about getting the girl married off in her first season. He’d been surprised at how his baby sister had grown during his absence, but he didn’t understand the rush to marry her off. Honestly, he’d prefer to keep her home for a while and have a chance to get to know her better. He did not mention this to the women in the household, as they would think him daft.

  Procrastinating further on the papers on his desk, he opened the invitations on the plate. Most he tossed aside, but then he opened an invitation to attend the ball of the Marques de Pompedo. The Marques’s daughter was a close friend to Belinda’s and it was certain his fiancée wouldn’t miss her friend’s ball.

  His heart pounded faster at the idea of seeing Belinda’s face when he appeared in the ballroom. He left his paperwork behind. The clock in the foyer indicated the hour was already late and he would have to dress quickly if he was to see her. He took the stairs to his rooms two at a time while hollering for his valet.

  * * * *

  He scanned the throng and spotted her golden hair from across the ballroom. Even with all the distraction of glittering candles, frescos and overdressed peerage, his eyes locked immediately to Belinda. Her bright green eyes became large saucers when she saw him approach. Good, he wanted her off balance.

  He wanted to look at her and feel nothing more than a legal attachment, but it was impossible. He couldn’t deny his feelings. Lady Belinda Clayton stimulated him in ways no other woman ever could. He was in love with her and had been since they had romped around as children together. She was smart, funny and exquisite in every way. Her pale yellow gown dipped low enough so that he enjoyed a discreet view of the swell of her breasts. He had seen them in the dim lighting of her chambers but he would never get his fill of her flesh.

  The curvaceous girl he left behind when he went to war was now a slender woman. Her taut, muscular body had surprised him, but also aroused him more than he would have expected. It had never occurred to him that a fit woman could be desirous. Actually, he’d only seen farm women with muscles, never a lady. More and more questions flooded his mind. Mostly, he yearned to touch her again.

  Her look of surprise he’d coveted changed quickly to mild disinterest as he crossed the ballroom. She recovered enough to give him a cold little curtsy before turning back to her friend for conversation.

  Pretending Belinda’s act didn’t bother him, he addressed her friend. “Lady Lorelei, you are looking lovely this evening. I hope you will forgive me if I steal my fiancée away for a dance.”

  The Marquis de Pompedo’s robustly-built daughter smiled charmingly and her smooth skin pinked. “I’m sure I will manage to find other amusements for a short time, my lord.”

  Anger flashed in Belinda’s eyes before she masked her emotions and turned fully toward him. He almost heard her mind whirling while she searched for a way to avoid being close to him. Then she smiled though the expression never touched her eyes. “I would be delighted, my lord.”

  She placed her hand on his offered arm so lightly that no physical contact penetrated his sleeve, but still the heat of her body seeped through his jacket, blouse and her glove. Her intentions may have been to display indifference, but the effect was quite the opposite. She drove him mad with wanting.

  He spoke as soon as they were far enough away from her friend that she wouldn’t overhear. “I wish you would mean those sweet words.”

  “I wish you would not pursue me to the point of suffocation.”

  Biting his tongue was the only possible help. The sharp pain successfully kept him from an angry response. His only clue to the cause of her disdain was his inability to communicate while in France. What did he have to do to make up for things that were beyond his control?

  The dance began and as it was a promenade, several other couples were well within hearing throughout. A question for another time. The dance brought Belinda close to him and she took his hand. “I thought perhaps after last night you might be less hostile toward me.”

  “This is hardly the time or the place to discuss my feelings for you, my lord.” Her voice was barely louder than a whisper, but the tension in her words cut through the din in the room and shot directly to his heart.

  “Perhaps I might make an appointment when you would be free to discuss those feelings.” He responded lightly, but his heart pounded. His chest tightened and he fought the temptation to pick her up and drag her from the crowded house to somewhere private.

  The dance ended, and she made her curtsy as he bowed deeply. She narrowed her eyes at him. “Your lack of regard for such customs is quite obvious, based on your behavior the last few weeks. You show up at the most unexpected and ungentlemanly times and pretend to care for my feelings.”

  Her voice rose and a gentleman who’d been passing turned at the sound. Gabriel took her elbow gently and directed her to a quiet corner of the room. “Go on.”

  “I have nothing more to say.”

  “You lie.” In spite of the accusation, his voice remained soft and calm.

  Her eyes widened and her mouth opened and closed several times. She was about to take the top of his head off. Slowly, the rage diminished and a tear popped up on her bottom lid. Her sorrow ripped his soul as it tumbled down her cheek.

  She dashed the tear away. “Gabriel, stop pursuing me. We shall not repeat what happened last night, so there is really no reason for you to continue this charade. I wish to be released from our engagement.”

  She had whispered the words, but if she had screamed them from the top of Parliament for all of London to hear, it would have had no greater effect on his heart. His chest pained him and his hand clutched at the pain. It was a moment before he steeled his emotions enough to respond. “Does what I wish have no meaning in this matter?”

  “I cannot discuss this here.” Her words hung in a low whisper and another tear made its way down her cheek.

  Gabriel caught the drop on his ungloved finger and closed his hand as if to keep her emotion, even if he couldn’t keep her. He closed his eyes willing the pain away. “I shall call on you tomorrow at eleven. Will that be a more suitable time, my lady?”

  Her chest lifted and fell as she took a deep breath. She nodded once, turned and walking away from him.

  Nothing he’d suffered in French prison hurt as deeply as hearing Belinda say she didn’t want to marry him. It was inconceivable. Planned almost since birth. What had changed?

&nb
sp; He had ordered his coach and stepped toward it, when he caught a glimpse of yellow from the corner of his eye. He turned just in time to see Belinda climb into an unmarked carriage unassisted. He yelled up to his driver to follow at a discreet distance.

  Her carriage crossed London Bridge into Southwark. Every sensible idea in his head demanded he order his driver catch and stop her. If he stopped her now, he might never find out what she had gotten herself into. Still, the idea of her making a journey across the river on her own sent chills down his spine. She must have lost her mind.

  Try as he might, Gabriel could think of no reason for a lady of Belinda’s station to travel into the south side of London in the middle of the night. Even if she was involved with another man, it was unlikely that their assignations would take place in the dodgier side of London.

  They turned a corner and he saw her carriage had stopped a block ahead.

  He banged on the roof of the carriage, and the driver immediately slowed to a stop.

  Gabriel peered through his window as Belinda alighted from her carriage alone and stepped onto the filth ridden streets of South London. With a lantern in her hand and a dark cloak covering most of her gown, she looked around cautiously. She stared briefly at his carriage parked a block away, but in the dark street, she’d have trouble making out the crest. He was surprised she’d noticed the carriage at all.

  He stepped down as soon as she crossed into the alley. “Wait for me here,” he ordered the driver.

  “Yes, milord.”

  As soon as he stepped into the open, a woman slinked out of a shadowed doorway. Time and wear faded her red dress and left it frayed around the collar. It had probably come from someone’s old trunk or been handed out to the poor. It was far too tight on her and her ample bosom spilled over the top. She had rouged her cheeks and lips and there were dark rings under her eyes. “Lookin for some company, gov?”

  The woman’s face was drawn and hollow. As he stepped in closer, he saw the cosmetics hid pockmarks and perhaps a few bruises from less caring customers. She pulled her stained and torn skirt up high enough to expose her left leg to the thigh.