by Colette Gale
ENAMORED © 2014 Colette Gale
All rights reserved.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dear Reader
— I—
— II—
— III—
— IV—
— V—
— VI—
— VII—
— VIII—
— IX—
— XI—
— XII—
— XIII—
— XIV—
Now available
Colette Gale
* * *
Dear Reader:
Welcome to the fifth volume of Miss Jane Clemons’s erotic adventures.
If you have already read the first four volumes, you should move directly to the first chapter. For those who have not enjoyed the previous volumes, please feel free to read on below.
During the late 19th century, the British indulged in much exploration of Africa, searching not only for gold and gemstones, but also for knowledge of this fascinating Dark Continent.
Professor Everett Clemons, the famous lepidopterist, and his daughter Jane were two of the most famous British citizens to embark on these travels, and although Jane published a book of her drawings and notations about the butterflies her father studied during these trips, there remained little information about her own thoughts and adventures—until recently.
Not long ago, I was fortunate enough to come upon an old trunk filled with Professor Clemons’s journals and butterfly specimens, and there, within, I also found the treasure of Miss Jane Clemons’s personal (and highly intimate) journals. They detail her experiences in the jungle—being captured by natives, being abandoned by her fiancé Jonathan—as well as her passionate relationship with the wild man of the jungle known as Zaren.
Because there were so many volumes of Jane’s journals, I have chosen to publish a series of short segments over time in order to make them publicly available as quickly and efficiently as possible.
I do hope the reader will indulge my decision to follow the popular form of literature from this era and publish Jane’s journals as a serialized collection. Not only does this enable me to be more efficient in releasing sections of her work (for it is quite an arduous task to pore over the very intimate and detailed descriptions of her experiences), but it also allows you the reader to experience the story in segments rather than in one overwhelming gulp.
I must also warn you: I have kept with the tradition of the times, ending each serialized episode on a cliffhanger.
The most recent episode ends with Jane and her beloved “jungle man” Zaren escaping from a group of natives, who believed Jane was a fertility goddess.
No sooner does Jane return to the treehouse where she and her father made camp than the handsome, mysterious Kellan Darkdale arrives with some terrible news for Jane: they must return to London, for her father is about to be hung for murder—and only Darkdale can prove his innocence.
Only once she’s been ushered onto the ship that takes her back to London does Jane learn what she must do in order to ensure that her father goes free…
I hope you find Jane’s experiences enlightening, exciting, and titillating as we follow her further adventures as a young woman, this time as she unexpectedly returns to London.
Colette Gale
2014
~*~
* * *
— I—
London.
Jane stood at the ship’s rail and watched details of the city take shape as the vessel navigated down the Thames. She didn’t know whether to be more relieved or apprehensive about the unexpected, premature return to the city of her birth.
“It has been a long voyage,” said a voice in her ear. “But now the real journey begins, does it not, Miss Clemons?”
She stiffened but didn’t deign to turn her head, nor to reply. Kellan Darkdale had come to stand next to her—much too close—and slid an arm around her waist. His presence and touch was an unwelcome reminder of what awaited her now that they’d returned from the wilds of the jungle.
You shall be my mistress.
My very submissive mistress.
She drew in a long, slow breath tinged with the fresh scent of seawater and laced with the aroma of fish and coal smoke. After what she’d experienced at the hands of the jungle natives, Jane was certain she could survive anything Darkdale demanded of her in his bed.
Just as she had suffered the touch and titillation from Cold Eyes, Ulma, and the others for the sake of her beloved Zaren, she would willingly—even eagerly—succumb to Darkdale’s demands in order to save Papa’s life.
She would do anything for her brilliant, absentminded, naive father.
Thankfully he was safe—for the time being. As far as she knew, he was still back in the relative safety of the Madagascar jungle—along with Efremina and, she hoped with all her heart, Zaren as well. Would Zaren know to find them and tell them what had happened?
What little he knew and could comprehend?
A wave of grief clogged Jane’s throat as the ship bumped into place at the dock. Her last sight of Zaren had been of him cutting smoothly and quickly through the water toward the ship as it set out to sea. His powerful arms sliced through the waves with ease, and his kicking legs left a trail of white foam in his wake. Though she begged for the crew to wait for him, her pleas went unheeded, and Zaren’s dark head grew smaller and smaller as the ship sailed away.
Please, God, let him have made it back to shore.
Please, God, let him know I had no choice but to leave.
I will return to him.
“Missing the jungle already?” Darkdale asked, his voice low and husky in her ear. “Or are those tears of joy that you’ve returned to civilization at last?”
When she remained mute, his arm grew uncomfortably tight around her waist.
“Now this will not do at all, Miss Clemons. You will soon learn that, during our arrangement, I’ll not suffer your impertinence. When I ask you a question, you’ll answer it—”
Jane stepped brusquely away, disengaging from his grip. “Let me make one thing perfectly clear, Mr. Darkdale. Before we embark on any sort of arrangement, I require proof of what you claim: that my father is wanted—and has been sentenced to hang—for murder. And that you have the ability to clear him of all charges.”
His eyes darkened and a little smile curled one side of his mouth. “I need only show you the newspaper wherein the court’s decision is reported, Miss Clemons, and you will have all the proof you need that the moment your father sets foot in London, he will be taken to the hangman’s platform. Unless I intervene.”
Then, with elegant fingers, he took her chin in a firm grip and tilted her face toward him, tightening his hold until she met his eyes.
“As for our arrangement, Miss Clemons…I am very much looking forward to the challenge of taming your spirit and teaching you proper behavior. I suspect it will be quite pleasurable…for both of us.”
Her chest felt tight, and her cheeks bloomed hot with fury…but even so, an unexpected quiver of heat caught her by surprise. Startled, Jane looked away, then, recovering quickly, turned back to him. “If you will clear my father’s name, I will do whatever you wish.”
“I know you will.” His smiled turned cooler.
“But I will hate every moment of it—and every time you touch me, know that I will be shuddering with disgust, and my be
lly turning with nausea.”
“What a challenge you will be, Miss Clemons. My dear Jane,” he added, his voice dropping low and breathless as he took her hand. He raised it to his lips in a parody of a gentleman—which he most certainly was not—and pressed a soft kiss there. “I have been mad for you since Jonathan first told me about you, painting verbal pictures for me of your lustful passion, your glorious desires and beautiful body whilst we sat around our campfires in the jungle. That brief taste I had of your delicious self while we were in the hot pool has only served to increase my desire for you.
“You might protest now, but I promise you this, my dear Jane: there will be a time when you will beg for me to touch you…when you will plead for me to give you pleasure.”
***
Jane stared unseeingly out the window of the carriage.
Darkdale had been as good as his word. No sooner had they disembarked from the ship and engaged a hansom cab than he directed it to the office of the London Times.
Shortly thereafter, he returned with a copy of a newspaper dated three months earlier. Although the headline wasn’t the largest—nor was it even on the front page—it was bold and frightening all the same: Celebrated Butterfly Scientist to be Hung for Murder of Mr. Gerald Carmichel.
So it was true.
“How do you propose to see the charges dropped?” she’d demanded, staring at the article, willing it to disappear or for the names to change…or something.
“Why, it’s very simple, my darling Jane,” he said, his voice very silky. “Your father was with me—for we were making preparations for our journey to Madagascar of course—during the time of Mr. Carmichel’s death. I need only testify that this was so, and his name will be cleared.”
“And though an innocent man might go to his death, you will withhold this information unless I…unless I submit to you?” Fury tightened her voice and loathing rushed through her. She’d always known the man was a cad—from the very first night in the jungle, when he’d burst into her bedchamber high in the treehouse and attempted to seduce her.
And then there was the episode with him and Jonathan in the hot springs pool… He had done things to her she’d never have imagined. She shivered, and to her hot shame, it wasn’t wholly a reaction of disgust.
“Ah, but my dear Jane,” he said, his eyes glittering as he settled them on her from his seat across the carriage. “Unfortunately, I wasn’t with your father at that time. But I am willing to perjure myself, to lie on the stand, in order to save him. Because, of course, he is innocent of the charges.”
“What?” Jane’s eyes went wide. “You would lie?”
“Oh, yes indeed. For I will have you, in my bed, as my mistress—and under my terms. I have waited too long for this opportunity, and now that Jonathan has met his fate—at the hands of a lioness, did you say?—there is no one to stand in my way.”
Only Zaren, she thought. Zaren. But Zaren couldn’t save her papa’s life. Jane bared her teeth at him in a cold smile. “Sir, you are a snake of the very worst sort.”
“No, my dear. I am merely an opportunist—and an excellent negotiator. You will receive something you desperately desire…and so will I. And, I posit, you shall even find pleasure with me.”
Jane averted her eyes and focused her attention on the rows of houses lining the street. She dared not dwell on what awaited her once they arrived wherever it was they were going.
The fact was, she didn’t have any idea what to expect from Darkdale. When he made his pronouncement shortly after her arrival on the ship—that he would clear her father’s name if she became his mistress—Jane expected him to insist she begin sharing his bed immediately. It would have been more than convenient for him, for she’d had no time to don any clothing after her escape from the jungle natives—except a simple chemise that barely covered her and reached only to her knees.
However, he made no such demands. Instead, he merely treated her with the courtesy of a gentleman—finding some appropriate clothing on the ship, squiring her around the deck on his arm several times a day, insisting they dine privately with the captain, arranging for her to have a tub in which to bathe every few days, and even playing chess and gin rummy with her when she became bored.
If Jane hadn’t known better, she would have thought he was courting her—a preposterous notion when one considered his demands.
Darkdale did insist they share a cabin, however. And when she was not with him, he kept the door locked from the outside—and the key on his person.
“Speak to no one, and do not attempt to contact anyone or to leave this cabin. If you do,” he’d said, his eyes hard and cold. “I’ll have you stripped bare and tied over a barrel for the crew. They would be happy to partake of your luscious body. And I would stand by and watch.”
Jane was sufficiently cowed by his threat and had no intention of testing him. Aside from that, she saw no reason to leave the cabin without an escort anyway—the rough-looking sailors and their hot eyes were off-putting enough on their own.
And so she spent three weeks in a state of unease and apprehension, and yet relative luxury—knowing that at any moment Darkdale could come into their cabin and order her into his bed. The very thought made her both apprehensive and shamefully titillated, for while he was no Zaren in looks or strength—and definitely not in character—Jane had to admit Kellan Darkdale was a very handsome man. In other circumstances, she might even have been attracted to him.
But not now.
Not ever.
“I have spent the last three weeks imagining you sprawled beneath me on a bed…your glorious hair strewn about the pillows, your body bare and spread for me, your red lips open and begging,” Darkdale said, watching her from across the carriage.
“I’ll never beg—”
“But I have no reason to wait for such a pose, such a perfect position.” He moved like a cat, swift and sleek, and was next to her, grasping her by the shoulders before she could react. “No, my darling Jane. There is no longer a reason to wait, to subdue my desire. Our arrangement has begun.”
She held herself rigid as he covered her mouth with his, but his lips were surprisingly soft and warm. Full and sensual. She closed her eyes, squeezing them shut as he kissed her with possessiveness and skill. Her lips parted under his demanding ones, and when his tongue thrust deep into her mouth, she found herself matching it with her own. They tangled and tasted, their tongues dancing and twining until she realized what she was doing and wrenched her face away.
“No,” she murmured, trying to even out her breathing.
Darkdale laughed softly and took her face in his hands. “Is that how you wish to play it, my darling? Nevertheless, you shall change your tune. I promise it.”
His solid body pressed her into a corner of the bench seat, but he didn’t attempt to kiss her again. Jane felt the firm muscles of his arms and thighs, as well as the solid ridge of his cock bumping her hip. His hands moved in lover-like fashion to pull her hair loose, combing through her long curls and over her shoulders as he kissed her, sampling her chin and jaw and then burying his face in the sweet spot beneath her ear. He nibbled on her lobe, gently biting her neck and sliding his strong tongue along her throat, sucking and tasting as he pressed himself against her.
Jane, whose body had been ignored and become dormant for weeks on the ship, couldn’t dismiss the erotic sensations. She’d been aroused and pleasured multiple times on a daily basis at the hands of Cold Eyes and his people—most often insistently and against her will—and so she was unable to keep from responding to this sensual, almost tender, onslaught. It had been so long…
Darkdale’s breathing was shallow and rough as he eased back to fumble with the buttons down the high collar of her shirtwaist. Then he wasted no time unlacing the corset beneath and releasing her breasts from its confines, tearing away the last bit of covering in the form of Jane’s original chemise.
“Beautiful. So ripe and delicious you are, darling Jane.” His
voice was hoarse and his cock pressed even more insistently into her hip. “I did not have the opportunity to enjoy you thus when we were with Jonathan.”
She bit her lip and couldn’t help but look down as he gathered up her breasts as if they were the Crown Jewels, shifting them in his palms. Her nipples were already tight and ready, and when Darkdale bent to lightly kiss one of them, Jane felt a shock of real pleasure jolt through her.
She closed her eyes again, determined to hold up her end of the bargain and allow him to do what he would, but not to respond in any way. Still, as he kissed and lightly nibbled on her tits, it became more and more difficult to ignore the sensations. She fought not to shift or sigh or groan as the shivers of pleasure grew stronger and harder. His mouth was warm and wet, his tongue slick and smooth, and the tingling sensations grew insistent and hotter as he licked and sucked on each breast in turn.
Jane’s heart was racing, her breath was out of sorts, and worst of all, she felt the familiar throbbing and dampness gathering between her legs. No, she thought. I won’t give in to him.
She was thankful when Darkdale moved away, shifting to her skirts, and gave her the opportunity to recover herself. He hiked up the hem, bundling the fabric off to one side, and slid his hands along her thighs. The fresh air felt cooler now that there was only a thin layer of cotton covering her, and Jane realized she’d become warm and damp everywhere.
“By gad,” he murmured, straddling her as he fumbled for the fastenings of his trousers. “I have waited for you for too long. Much too long. And this is only the beginning, my darling.” His voice was rough and unsteady, and when she looked up at him, she saw the dark heat in his eyes and the way his nostrils flared gently as if he fought for control. His lips were full and they glistened, reminding her how busy they’d been just a moment ago, licking and sucking on her sensitive nipples.
She closed her eyes, relieved that the sensations he’d aroused in her had ebbed and her breathing was back to normal. The last thing she wanted was for Darkdale to give her pleasure.