Melissa and The Vicar (The Seducers Book 1)

by S. M. LaViolette

  She might try to tell herself that she hated him—to protect herself for the day when she would have to leave him—but the truth was not easily smothered. She loved Magnus with all her heart and wanted him—in every way. And soon she would need to leave him.

  Melissa knew her body as well as any woman in her business and was familiar with her cycle of arousal. During a month she climaxed more easily or wanted sex more at different points. But the sensations she’d started experiencing recently? They were different. Deeper, more . . . primitive.

  As she’d been sitting here tonight, and making him miserable, a thought occurred to her: whether or not she enjoyed herself now, she was still going to leave him. So why was she working so hard to make herself—and him—so miserable now? Why not enjoy herself for as long as she could? Wasn’t that a far smarter approach? It was clear that tormenting him and resisting him was doing nothing to lessen her love and desire for him. She wasn’t fooling herself; she was only making them both miserable.

  She stood and pulled off her dressing gown. Beneath it was one of nightgowns she’d always worn; it was provocative, but not cheap or lurid. And she had a body she had never shied from showing off. Why not? What else did she have that was of any value?

  But tonight she didn’t want even a nightgown between them. She pulled it over her head and went to the connecting door, laying her ear against it: nothing.

  She twisted the handle, surprised that he hadn’t locked her out for being so beastly. The room beyond was dark and she hesitated a moment to allow her eyes to adjust.

  “Melissa?” The voice, wide awake, came from a dark mass on the far side of the room. “Is something wrong?” She heard the rustle of fabric and realized he must have sat up.

  She closed the door and navigated her way slowly toward him, not stopping until she bumped up against the bed.

  “Mel?”

  It was the first time he’d used the diminutive of her name and it made her smile. “Can I come in bed with you?”

  His stunned silence was palpable, and then, “Of course, here.” She heard a light thumping sound—a hand patting a mattress. “Come in, I’m holding back the covers.”

  When she slid in beside him, she realized he was wearing a nightshirt and the knowledge rocked her to her core. She’d never been in bed with a man in a nightshirt. Ever. But he was her husband, and that’s what married couples wore. It was both domestic and wildly erotic at once and she wished she could see him.

  He made a choked sound as he dropped the bedding over them. “You are naked,” he wheezed.

  She smiled at his sudden labored breathing.

  “You not wearing any clothes at all,” he added, just in case she didn’t know the meaning of the word naked. “Lord, I sound like an idiot.”

  Melissa grinned in the darkness and turned toward him, running her hand up his cloth covered body and letting it rest over his half-erect organ.

  “May I take off your nightshirt, Magnus?”

  He sucked in a breath and stiffened. All the way.

  She had to bite her lip to hold back a giggle as he ripped his nightshirt over his head and sent it sailing into the darkness. Melissa leaned toward him and kissed the first thing she could find, part of a nipple and his lightly haired chest.

  He hissed and his arms slid around her but she held him back, “No, I want to explore you first. Lie back.”

  He complied without speaking.

  “Are you cold? Do you mind if I pull back the covers?”

  “You can do anything you want,” he said in a strangled voice.

  She shook with suppressed laughter.

  “Are you laughing at me?”

  “Yes.” This time she couldn’t hold it back.

  “I don’t blame you. Your hands on my body are making me a pitiful wreck.”

  “Shhh.” She smoothed her hands over said gorgeous, muscled body, which she swore was thinner than it had been only weeks ago. He was leaner, but still sculpted perfection.

  He groaned as she massaged his shoulders.

  “You like that?” she asked, even though she knew he did.

  “No. I love it.”

  Her hands roamed his torso, kneading and stroking, his body becoming warm and supple beneath her fingers, his breathing deepening as she worked her way down the tight musculature of his abdomen. He was exquisite—one of God’s masterpieces, although he’d probably consider such a thought blasphemous. That was fine; she would keep it to herself.

  She wanted his body inside her so badly her thighs were sticky as she knelt and pushed apart his legs, kneeling between them, her hands moving the whole time, touching every part of him but the one he wanted most. Tormenting him yet again, but this time for their mutual pleasure.

  She dragged her fingers over the thin skin over his hip bones, jostling his erection and causing him to groan.

  “Melissa, please,” he begged.

  Her body was so primed that his pleading alone could have sent her over the edge.

  Instead, she backed up and lowered her mouth to the place where his erection sprouted from his body and joined to his sac, which was a tight pouch of need.

  She breathed on him, her hot feathery touches making his hips buck for more.

  Her eyes had adjusted to the gloom and she could see the outline of him, long and thrusting. She smiled and ignored his erection, sucking his taut jewels into her mouth, instead.

  He groaned something that sounded like her name. His hands tangled in her hair and she she felt the struggle inside him, the desire to pull her up to where he wanted her and use her for his own pleasure.

  But Melissa held his hips firmly, making love to his tight, sensitive sac before moving up the silky skin of his shaft, licking, sucking, and nipping her way to his head. By the time she reached her destination he was salty and slick and trembling. He needed to come badly. She knew from the last time with him that he would be ready again soon. She took his length into her mouth. Even though she relaxed all her muscles and opened her throat to him, he was long and her eyes watered as she struggled to take him all the way to his root.

  “Oh, Melissa.” It was a strangled moan, as if to keep himself from screaming. He gripped her head now, his fingers flexing, tightening, guiding. She knew what she was doing and could have done it far better without any help, but she loved the feel of his hands on her. And she adored the tension in his body as he struggled to control himself, fighting the primitive urge to fuck her mouth.

  She relaxed and opened completely to him, giving herself up to which ever urge won out.

  ∞∞∞

  Magnus couldn’t control his own body. His hips were jerking and no longer obeying him. Her mouth—an impossibly slick, hot, and tight tunnel—closed around every inch of him. He could feel the head of his cock as it rubbed the back of her throat—how could she breathe?— and his own throat constricted in sympathy, but his hands tightened and his hips bucked into her, savagely pounding the yielding softness which she offered him, her body pliable and accommodating around his girth.

  Her position was wildly erotic and submissive; she’d made herself a vessel, waiting to be filled by him.

  Magnus crested on this last thought and froze, buried deep inside her while he pulsed, spending in luxurious ripples into her throat while she hummed her pleasure, her tongue and lips caressing him, coaxing every drop.

  Shame at how he’d used her crept beneath his euphoria.

  “Shhh,” she whispered, as if she could read his sudden tension.

  He opened his mouth to apologize but her gentle massaging between his thighs made forming words impossible. He must have drifted off—only for a few moments—and he woke to the feel of her tongue, licking his belly, probing his navel, and then settling on his chest while she lowered her body on his.

  “Melissa.” His arms wrapped around her. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled into her hair, which was tufted and messed from his brutal grabbing. “Did I hurt you?”

  “I ado
red it.” She bit his neck so hard he winced. “I love the feel and taste of you, I loved feeling you inside of me.”

  “I didn’t choke you?”

  She gave a low, earthy chuckle that made his ballocks clench. “You did. And I loved it.”

  His face was so hot he was surprised it didn’t glow in the dark. He realized now—rather foolishly—that she’d been vocal about her pleasure the first time they’d laid together. He had been a fool to think she’d learned everything she knew from books, as he had. He wished he could please her with as much skill. He hated to think of that smug, evil man doing more for her. What if—God, what if he could not determine what she needed? What she liked?”

  “Magnus?”

  “Hmm?” he said, not trusting himself to say anything else.

  “You have gone still, but your heart is pounding. What is wrong? Did I disgust you with my behavior?”

  “No, of course you didn’t. You—you—tore me in two. You humbled me. I was lying here thinking,” he bit his lip. There was such a thing as too honest—was what he was about to say too honest?

  “Tell me, Magnus—what is it? If we are to deal honestly with each other and to—to make something of this marriage, we will have to discuss subjects other couples might not. We are not like other people—at least I’m not—so perhaps it will take more care and effort.”

  She was right.

  “I wish I was more experienced,” he blurted, and then chuckled wryly, “or even that I had some experience. I wish I could bring you pleasure the way H-Hugo must have.”

  She began shaking her head before he’d even finished. “No, please don’t think that—ever. I’m grateful, honored, even—that I was your first. I wish you had been mine but wishing for things long gone is pointless. As for Hugo,” she hesitated.

  “What?”

  “You are going to hate me.”

  His heart clenched. Good God, what was she going to tell him now? Magnus forced down the fear and said, “I could never hate you.”

  “Hugo and I were never lovers, Magnus. I used him to make you despise me enough to go away.”

  A laugh broke out of him. “That doesn’t make me hate you. I am so very, very relieved to hear it.”

  She nuzzled closer. “I thought you’d be furious that I’d done such a thing.”

  He gathered her close and squeezed her. “Trust me, darling, I’m a lot happier knowing you were only play acting than believing he’d actually been your lover. Although I have to admit that was very wicked of you.” He kissed her. “But about that other part—about my lack of, er, well, experience.”

  “We can learn together.”

  “You already know so much.”

  “But it is different with somebody you love, Magnus.”

  His heart lurched into a gallop—it was certainly being put through its paces tonight.

  “Thank you for saying the words, Melissa. I knew you loved me, but I longed to hear you say it.”

  She ran her hand up and down his sides in a way that made his sleeping organ begin to harden again. “Oh, you knew it, did you?”

  “Mmm hmm, you told me. Remember?” He nuzzled her, hoping she’d associate that night with positive things, rather than his dreadful words to her that day at The White House.

  “What’s that?”

  Magnus froze. “What is what?”

  Her hips, which were pressing against his, began to pulse. “I feel something.”

  Magnus laughed, his face hot with joyous embarrassment. “I’m sorry, is that terribly rude? To get an erection while somebody is talking to you?”

  “No, not if that somebody is your wife. Who you left wanting when you drifted off to sleep.”

  He rolled her over before she could protest. “You didn’t give me much choice, did you?” Magnus wished the room was lighted, as it had been their first time. He could only see her outline, although he could certainly feel her soft, warm body well enough.

  She spread her thighs beneath him. “I want you.” The laughter was gone from her voice and he slid his hands beneath her bottom and lifted her, she tilted her hips and guided him to her entrance and he pushed himself inside.

  “Ah, you are heaven,” he murmured.

  “Isn’t that sacrilege?” she asked, the tremor in her voice letting him know she was not unmoved.

  He gave a shaky laugh as he positioned his body himself more securely. “Not if it’s true.” He thrust into her, harder this time. She grunted with pleasure. He pulled all the way out and entered again.

  “Yes, Magnus, please. Hard.”

  “As you command,” he said, thrilling at the need in her voice.

  Yes, this—he could do this: take her to heaven and go with her.

  ∞∞∞

  Magnus knew he should ask his wife what was responsible for her sudden turn about, but the balance between them was so tenuous he simply could not take the risk of upsetting it.

  What he wanted—more than anything—was to make this marriage a success. Right now, if that meant living in ignorance about her past or the inner workings of her mind, he was willing to do so. For now.

  Everything changed after that night.

  They did call on their neighbors, and not just the Tenleighs, the sweet older couple who’d been the best of friends with his Aunt Eudora. Over the course of the ten days they spent at Moor House they ate dinner out three times and even attended a small country assembly, where nobody knew anything about his wife because the last people to have been to London were the two of them. It was, he knew, cowardly to be so grateful the denizens of the area were homebodies and that he and Melissa did not need to fear exposure. But their emotions were so battered they simply needed some time to heal.

  “You should see the area on horseback,” he said one day after they’d had to hurry back because of an impending rainstorm. “There is no better way and we could cover a far greater distance.”

  Melissa’s wicked lips curved into a smile of regret. “I’m afraid I don’t ride.”

  “You have never ridden?”

  “No, never.”

  “How is that possible?”

  Melissa had chuckled, a sweet, rich laugh that was like honey. “I simply never had any opportunity in London, Magnus.”

  “But there is a sizable stable at your, er, business. I know because I left Friar there that day.”

  The conversation suffered a momentary hitch, but then Melissa went on, clearly as interested as Magnus not to strain their tenuous peace. “All carriage horses, and only a few of those. I lease out some of the spaces to a few of the neighboring buildings.”

  Magnus had to smile; she was certainly a very savvy woman of business. He knew most of his friends and family would view a woman conducting business as far beyond the pale, but he respected anyone who could support themselves.

  He realized she was waiting for him to answer. “Well, we shall remedy this dire situation immediately. I shall go into the village and inquire about engaging a couple hacks.”

  Melissa’s eyes widened. “You mean I can simply get on a horse and start riding?”

  He grinned. “We’ll spend the first part of the morning going round in that small arena beside the stables. It’s not been used for ages but will work fine for our purposes.”

  Her eyes sparkled in a way that almost robbed him of breath. “So, tomorrow after breakfast?”

  “Yes, if they’ve got a suitable mount for you. If not, we’ll have to go further afield, but we’ll find something.”

  “Oh no, Magnus.” Melissa’s face fell. “I do not possess a habit.”

  He grimaced. “Oh, blast. I’d forgotten about that.” They stared at each other in silence for a moment, the light in her eyes dimmed. Magnus snapped his fingers. “Lord, I’m daft. My aunt’s clothing is all here and she was a bruising rider.”

  “You wouldn’t mind?”

  He was touched that she understood his reverence for his aunt’s house, but it didn’t extend to her clothin
g. “Of course not, darling. And I know my aunt would have been happy to see somebody get use out of her things. She was a bit taller and stouter than you, but not by too much. I’m sure Mrs. Hixon could either take it in or knows somebody who could. Never fear, we shall make something work,” he assured her.

  Mrs. Hixon was a wizard with a needle and the habit needed only minor alteration. It was a plain black wool that looked striking with her fair skin and auburn hair.

  The King’s Head Inn did indeed possess hacks for hire and one of them was of a placid temperament that even a child could handle.

  And so that was how Melissa came to receive her first riding lesson.

  Magnus saddled up the gentle mare with one of his aunt’s several sidesaddles and spent an hour leading her around the small arena.

  “This is not hard at all,” she said, grinning down at him as walked the horse in circles.

  He stopped. “Would you like to hold the reins?”

  “Oh, yes, please.”

  After another hour she was ready to test her mettle on the driveway.

  “You’ll be a horsewoman in no time,” Magnus told her as he helped her dismount after she’d gone up and down the drive at least a dozen times. “Tomorrow we shall go out for a short ride. Just around the park, nothing too difficult.”

  “I can hardly wait for tomorrow—but then I can hardly wait for tonight, either.” Their eyes met and he knew she was recalling their passion in bed the night before.

  He loved her so much it frightened him. But, he told himself, that fear was nothing but a residual emotion from the time when he’d been without her—and also from the rocky first days of their marriage when everything had felt as though it could come crashing down around them in an instant.

  Now everything had changed—he loved her and she loved him. There were no more lies between them, nothing but love. He never had to fear losing her again.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The carriage ride back to New Bickford passed far too quickly—as had the days at Moor House. It frightened her how much she’d enjoyed the time they spent together, even though they’d done nothing more than ride horses, walk the moors, and take dinner with a few older couples who’d known Magnus all his life.