Carnal Pleasures

by Blaise Kilgallen

  She didn’t stop him.

  He palmed her softness, squeezing the mounds of flesh lightly with more caresses. She moaned when he rubbed a thumb across a nipple and cried out, “Oh God, it feels good. Do more!” She grabbed his fingers and guided them lower. “Here! Down here…”

  His cock was hard and hot where her buttocks nestled between his thighs. There’d be no problem with his performance tonight.

  “I’ll give you what you need, Dulcie.”

  “I-I want…”

  “Tell me.”

  “I don’t know, but I need…” she whimpered, calling out frantically. “Griff, what’s wrong with me? I n-never felt this way before!”

  “Shhh. Don’t worry. I’ll take you above stairs.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Griff carried Dulcie up one of the staircases to the mansion’s private wing and nudged open the door to his bedchamber. There was a glowing coal fire in the grate. Several candles burned in a large brass candelabrum sitting on his bedside table. When he maneuvered Dulcie toward the elaborate four-poster and slid her to her feet, her knees buckled, her legs bumping against the thick mattress.

  “Oh! Hold on to me!” she exclaimed, clutching him fearfully. She pitched herself at him again and buried her flushed face against the wool fabric of his jacket. A muffled sob escaped from her tight throat. When she looked up, Dulcie’s lashes quivered like anxious wings, fluctuating against her flushed cheeks. Dulcie clamped frantically onto Griff’s bulging biceps, digging her short nails into him. “Help me!” she wailed. “I feel so helpless! Do something to make it go away! Please stop what is happening to me!”

  Her breathing was rapid and shallow, as though she had run a distance uphill. Her panting exhalations seared the skin of his neck above his disheveled cravat. She had pulled the knot open when she grabbed him. Her breasts and hips now pressed tight against his chest and groin.

  “Tell me what you want!” Griff growled, the words erupting from deep in his chest. Scraping her slender neck with the sharp edges of his top teeth, he made faint, nipping indentations along her unsullied skin. He needed to taste her, devour her sweetness. His lust burned hotter and higher as he held her tight against his rampant cock. He wanted her naked…now! “Dammit, tell me! I’m more than happy to oblige.”

  Roughly Griff pushed Dulcie down onto the soft mattress, shoved her flat, and straddled her thighs. The beast in him was growing stronger, more urgent, demanding release. He was eager to plow into her, strong and thick, plant himself deep in the fallow meadow of her pussy.

  Damnation! He had to hang on.

  Suddenly, Dulcie leaned up, flailing her arms and hands in the air, and yanking at the new gown she wore, tearing at the fabric with frenetic jerks. “Quick! Help me take it off!” she demanded, unable to undo the gown by herself. She was so distressed he wondered if she would ever calm down

  “All right, all right! Let me do it.” Panicky himself by this time, he rolled her over and undid the fastenings. The fabric slid off her shoulders and hips, and he was able to pull the gown from under her. He rolled her back to the front and rapidly removed her petticoats. Working like a madman, he yanked off her slippers, undid her garters, and rolled down her stockings. After her initial struggle, she was breathing hard but lay quiet, ceasing to fight him.

  He vowed to be gentle, but his blood was on fire, too. His inflamed cock got harder as he gazed down on her half-naked body. More beside wealth and title drew him to her. The girl’s untouched innocence, perhaps? Maybe, but he was about to change that.

  “Dulcie, look at me.”

  Her eyes opened slowly, as if her lids were too heavy to lift. He bent over and kissed her, taking her mouth in a searing joining of passion and desire. She accepted his kiss willingly. He nibbled at the corners of her mouth, nipped her lower lip. “Do you like kissing? Do you want more?”

  “Yes. Oh yes, please, I need more…” she murmured, eyes closing. “Kiss me again.”

  Griff knew he had to do this quickly, or he might hurt her in his need for release. He pressed her legs open with his knees, fitted his hips in the space.

  “Open wider, Dulcie,” he ordered, anxiety pressuring his rapid breathing.

  She wore nothing now except her corset and chemise. Griff shook with tremors so powerful he was panting. His fingers didn’t want to work, but he untied the corset strings and lifted the garment off her. Her chemise was sheer cotton. Her breasts, with their prominent nipples, were a deep pink through the cloth. The chemise, reaching to her knees, revealed a small triangle of pubic hair, a shadowy triangle nestling between her thighs. Griff sucked in a breath and feasted his avid gaze on her pliant form.

  She had a body that could easily satisfy his every desire.

  This is when we both get what we want, he thought.

  His mind took hold, firmly leashing his rutting eagerness to fuck her. His hands swooped down to capture Dulcie’s breasts, fondling the soft mounds, weighing them in his waiting palms. Moving lower, he licked around a pink aureola until the nipple peaked. He teased with the sharp edge of his teeth, gently; her breath hitched and she moaned. Wanting more, he sucked the pink bud into his mouth and pulled hard, tweaking the other nipple with his fingertips. While he suckled and teased, she whimpered. He surmised that her tits were extraordinarily sensitive, heightened by the potion. Her short nails bit into him through his jacket, and he knew he’d have raw half moons on his biceps. Reactions from the drug were bearing down on him, too. Again, Dulcie moaned, leaving him to guess if it was a moan of pleasure or pain.

  “Oh, God! Help me…” she whimpered.

  Griff jumped back on his heels at the low cry escaping from her. “Bloody hell! Am I hurting you? Tell me, Dulcie,” he demanded. “I’m not doing it to hurt you, only to help both of us!”

  She didn’t look at him, instead, she exclaimed, “Just help me! I-I don’t know what’s happening! And I can’t…”

  Pain and pleasure had blended in Griff’s onslaught on Dulcie’s breasts; stimuli shot like fiery arrows along raw, tingling nerve endings, following a path toward her inner core. With a sudden jerk, she shot her hands outward, clawing at the skin of her shoulders and chest, calling out frantically, “Get them off me! Oh please, get rid of them!” Her eyelids clamped shut, and she begged, plaintively, “Oh God, oh God, can’t you see the awful bugs crawling on me!”

  Dulcie’s strangled pleas bombarding his ears had Griff beside himself.

  Griff knew he had to do something soon. Dammit! His hands still shook as if he had palsy. “Dulcie, stop!” he commanded, his voice sharp. “Lie quiet.” Feeling the same duress that she did, he snapped, “Devil take it, Dulcie, trust me to know what I’m doing!” He jumped up from where he knelt, leaving Dulcie gloriously naked. He never thought her stunningly beautiful, but now…that luscious, untouched body was enough to…

  His blood was roaring in his ears. His cock had expanded, rising up, long and thick, against his groin. Dulcie wasn’t moving. Her eyes were closed. But time was of the essence. Griff whipped off his jacket and waistcoat, threw them to the floor. He hung over her, leaving the rest of his clothes on and forgetting to remove his boots.

  Although locked into his promise to the countess, what he was about to do whipped his conscious and rankled through him. It was almost as damaging to his ego as fucking the demanding Agina Trayhern. He had called himself a slimy cad then, the lowest cadre of men, a paid lover, a male whore—a bloody, unscrupulous cicisbeo hired to fuck both women for money. What should he call himself now?

  Griff knelt again between Dulcie’s white thighs. Sweat flowed from his pores as he placed a hot, damp palm on the crisp hair of her mons.

  Hell’s bells, I hope she’s unconscious. It will be quicker if I penetrate her while she doesn’t know what’s happening.

  Whatever potion they had swallowed seemed to have intensified all sensations into exploding, carnal hunger. He was close to losing control of his passion, but thankfully, Dulcie seemed
to have calmed. He had watched her suffering during the past hour, unaware of what was wrong with her, wracked with tremors, cursed by prickling heat and wild imaginings—all of which had devastated her—and him.

  He vowed to find out whomever did this to them. He was almost certain it had to be the countess. However, right now it didn’t matter. Dulcie needed relief—a surcease only he could dispense—a fast and hard fucking.

  Dulcie’s eyes blinked open. She fumbled for Griff’s hand, grabbing it, and pressing it between her thighs. “Please, do this,” she begged, “before I go berserk…”

  Damnation! I want to be gentle, but…the bloody witch has tricked me with the same poison. My balls are aching. My cock is twice as big and hard. I need my release, too. I need to pound into Dulcie…now. I need to hear her call out when she comes.

  In a rush to get it done, Griff poked a shaky finger between Dulcie’s labia and stroked. The potion had released her sexual juices, glazing the entrance to her pussy. His fingertip came away slick and wet. He leaned forward. “So help me, Dulcie, I don’t want to hurt you, but I’ve got to do this.”

  He sucked in a deep breath and undid his breeches. He placed his rigid cock at the point of entry and shoved his rigid cock inside her with a swift, hard jerk of his buttocks, burying himself deep in one powerful thrust, tearing through her maidenhead, and seating his erection to its fullest length.

  Dulcie jerked from the rough, forcible intrusion almost instantaneously. A long wail tore from her throat when he rammed into her. She struggled vainly to get away from the unexpected stabbing pain.

  Griff’s full weight forced Dulcie to the mattress, pinning her flat. “Lie still!” he rasped, his voice stretched tight by tension. Holding back further thrusts, he gave her trembling body time to accept him. “The pain will ease soon. Take my word on it.”

  * * * *

  Take my word on it, echoed in Dulcie’s brain. She remembered her stepmother’s words in the note ordering her to come to Town.

  Was this what she meant? Was I brought here to be seduced by the countess’s nephew?

  Pressure inside Dulcie was like a hot poker searing the opening between her thighs. Her struggles didn’t cease immediately, but she realized they were of no use. Griff lay on top of her, keeping her from moving while she drifted in and out of consciousness.

  “Dammit, I didn’t want to hurt you. Stay quiet, Dulcie!” he warned again. “Bloody hell, I need you to come. Now.”

  “C-come? Where?” Dulcie replied hazily. She had no idea what he meant.

  “Dulcie, I beg you just don’t move,” Griff pleaded.

  Her eyes dragged open slowly as she tried to focus her gaze on him. “I-I thought…c-coming up here was what you wanted.” Her eyes became unfocused again.

  * * * *

  Griff leaned forward suddenly and kissed her with a combination of want and forgiveness. Finishing the ravishment would go easier if she enjoyed his kisses, he thought. He sank into her mouth expertly. She seemed to surrender, even join him in the erotic blending of lips and tongues.

  Believing she was ready, Griff reached for the spot where their bodies joined. His thumb flicked her clit, stroking gently. He wanted her to climax quickly and as often as possible, to get the drug out of her system. He hoped he could hold off his own release before she came.

  “Oh, umm!” she exclaimed when he touched her there. “Ohh, heavens! I-I … umm…” She squirmed restlessly under him. Hopefully, his rhythmic stroking would soothe her sexual itch. If this didn’t alleviate her distress completely, perhaps there were other means to help her. He certainly knew enough carnal ways to satisfy a woman.

  Griff’s breathing slowed although his desire spiraled into a sizzling, growing coil of need. He ached for satisfaction, too. He pulled his cock out of her core in a sensual plundering of her body, and slid it in—again and again. His senses had reeled after his initial plunge. She was so hot, so tight, so enticing, it was difficult to maintain control. He never felt like this before, but then, he never fucked a neophyte. He’d always enjoyed fucking experienced partners.

  Bracing himself, Griff pushed in deeper, stroking Dulcie faster. He hung on, waiting for her erotic explosion, praying he had strength enough to send her over the edge for her first climax. They fit together fine now that her body accepted him. He knew, too, that once a day or night was never going to be enough to satisfy his hunger for Lady Dulcie.

  Griff pressed on, concentrating on gratifying Dulcie. She maintained her drug-induced passion as she arched against him, her wanton behavior growing stronger and bolder as sensation built in her core.

  He did everything he knew how, inside and out, to deliver her to the brink. Bloody hell, he was too damn close himself. He kept circling her clit, pulling out of and surging back in again, pummeling her with deeper and deeper plunges until he was finally gratified by her loud exclamation of pleasure. Grinding his teeth and tensing the muscles of his backside, he threw his head back, and gripped Dulcie’s buttocks. At once, he emptied his seed into her, no longer able to maintain control.

  It was several moments later when Griff drew in a shuddery breath, glancing at the supine form lying quietly beneath him. Damnation! How could he have been so foolish? He always pulled out. He had vowed never to let that happen when he came.

  Other than that one mistake, fucking Dulcie had been almost perfect.

  Her eyes were closed, her breathing soft and slow now. She looked relaxed. Any signs of tremors and twitchings were dormant. Thank God, he thought. Fucking her had erased her most fearsome anxieties and discomfort. He felt his own tension slowly ease. He was sated by the prolonged foreplay and release. His heavy breathing tapered to normal. The muscles in his arms and thighs relaxed, too. Ah yes, making love with Lady Dulcie again couldn’t come soon enough for him.

  * * * *

  Dulcie was wonderfully relaxed.

  A series of powerful contractions had flowed through her, unleashing waves of unbelievable pleasure, inundating her inner being with a score of new and unexplored responses, sizzling along nerve endings that she didn’t know belonged to her. She remembered loosing an unexpected keening sound, hearing it reverberating within the room, as her convulsing core muscles squeezed Griff’s stroking erection. Her body clenched deliciously as she milked his cock. Gripping the linen bed sheet beside her hips, Dulcie shuddered with titillating spasms as reality shattered into flashing pieces of shimmering light, displaying a kaleidoscope of brilliant colors behind her eyelids and flinging her properly-brought-up, ladylike-training into total disarray. Mind-bogging pleasure, meshed with wonderment and surprise, took root deep inside her, emotionally and physically.

  She had been mortified when Griff first fondled her breasts and devoured her mouth in ways she never thought she’d be touched or kissed. Now that he had invaded her body so intimately, igniting and satisfying the deepest, darkest parts of her unplumbed depths, she wanted to experience that same ecstasy, that same enjoyment over again.

  Shame had suddenly metamorphosed into something else, all consuming and needful. Her mind had accepted what she allowed Griff Spencer to do … without reservation. She still didn’t know why she had thrown herself at him, only that she had to, because she craved his help. Neither did she know what to do about it. During those terrifying minutes when her body was almost uncontrollable—wild and untamed—her mind, too, was unmanageable, aflame with lust and desire. Griff Spencer had saved her sanity. The fact that he was a master seducer didn’t matter. Instead, she had surrendered her false modesty, suppressed any improper inhibitions, and embraced what he was doing, begging him to rescue her from madness.

  Was it wanton and wickedness that she wanted him to make love to her again? And soon? Was she vile and immoral, aching for him to touch her, caress her again? Letting him fondle and explore—and allowing her to do the same? Oh God, was she doomed to burn in hell while the bonfires of carnal desire boiled through her hot and uninhibited?

  As unanswer
able questions swam through the rivers of her mind, Dulcie floated in a quiet haze of tranquility, almost at peace—at least with her body. No hundreds of legs crawled across her skin. No itchy heat, no painful discomfort, nor continuing distress. No horrible sensations bedeviled her, tickling her arms and legs, numbing her fingers and toes. She felt as if her bones had softened to porridge, but surely later, when she rested, they would hold her upright. Dulcie inhaled deeply then released a long sigh of pleasure and contentment. She lay back and closed her eyes. At last she could sleep.

  Chapter Seventeen

  As Dulcie slept, Griff rose from the mattress, strode to where a supply of liquor was available, and poured himself three fingers of French brandy from a crystal decanter. He fell into one of the wing chairs facing the fireplace and stretched his long legs out in front of him. Every now and then, he glanced over at the bed to check if Dulcie had roused from her lethargy.

  Well, it’s done. Now, I can despise myself in peace.

  He rolled the potent liquor around in his mouth, trying to remove the sour taste of what he had been forced to do to satisfy his bargain with the countess. The brandy burned a path of dishonor to his guts. His nerves still twitched slightly from the effects of the aphrodisiac as he endured the cuts to his once-proud male ego.

  Thankfully, it appeared as if Dulcie was recuperating and sleeping in deep repose. Maybe she’ll forget what I did, he thought, the same way she denied remembering our earlier tryst. But this time, denying what happened wouldn’t be that easy. He had almost raped her—for her own good, of course, for he knew of no other way to counteract the potion they must have been given. She would have been hysterical in his bedchamber without relief.