“I believe you acted quite properly at the ball tonight, for a change,” the countess said to Dulcie with a slight sneer, hesitating outside her bedchamber on the second floor. “After you are married, I’ll be happy to see you gone. Then you may return to your hoydenish ways, rusticating in that humdrum estate of your father’s in Surrey.”
Dulcie said nothing, but kept walking down the hall to her room.
Agina tapped Griff lightly on the arm. “I will see you tomorrow, Spencer.”
“Of course, Aunt,” he said.
Saying goodnight, all three snapped the door latches behind them.
Trent had dozed in Agina’s room. Now she helped undress the countess, locking the door between the countess’s and Griff’s dressing room after putting Agina’s ballgown and underpinnings away.
“Shall I leave you alone, love?” Trent asked, waiting to be dismissed by the woman she loved who was ten years her junior.
Agina beckoned to her friend and lover, and Trent moved to enfold Agina in her arms.
“No, don’t leave me, not tonight, Trent. Our plans at last have come to fruition, and I wish to relax and enjoy them. With you. Come make love to me, Trent, my dearest one.”
Trent slipped the silky robe off of Agina, removing the garment from her lover’s waiting body very slowly, sinuously, her avid gaze devouring the younger woman’s beauty. Agina was still quite lovely and desirable, even in her mid-thirties.
The countess stood unmoving, her eyes heavy-lidded, hands at her sides, waiting for the lovemaking to begin. Trent reached out to caress the pointed, snowy mounds, the ruby nipples already pouting in anticipation of been suckled. The maid made love to them, rubbing hard with thumbs, pinching the nubs into further prominence as Agina moaned, eyes closed, feeling the pleasure taking hold. She clasped the maid’s experienced hands against her generous breasts even though the erotic manipulations were growing rougher instead of being gentle.
“Harder. More,” she gasped, her breath growing sharper, faster, quickening as burgeoning lust began to peak.
Trent pulled on the protuberant nipples until they stretched to long points. Then she bent to lave each one with her tongue, sucked on them hard, then bit each one with sharp teeth. Agina gripped the woman’s head at the temples, holding her tight against her breasts, letting her teeth painfully titillate her budded nipples. When Agina released a loud groan of ecstasy, Trent moved to nip at the softer, pebbled flesh arousing the red cherry pits even more.
The two women embraced, then kissed passionately, their tongues tangling together. Trent led a naked Agina to the bed, blankets having been folded back, ready for sleep.
Agina slid onto the mattress. Trent was in the midst of removing her own clothes, her body, with its broad frame and coarse features, muscular arms and legs, and the heavy patch of dark, wiry, pubic hair displaying the dominant half of the lesbian pair. The nipples of her large breasts had hardened, too, and she tweaked them to arouse herself further. She inhaled the musky odor of female arousal emanating from between her own thighs, and knew the identical, womanly perfume exuded from Agina’s wet pussy. The maid’s mouth began to water. She salivated for the salty taste of her lover’s flow, hungry to eat her pussy, plunge her strong, well-trained tongue into the countess’s hot, waiting core until her lover orgasmed. Again and again. Only then would she masturbate to satisfy herself.
* * * *
Griff heard the garbled noises coming from the countess’s bedchamber, and knew what was occurring next door. If an erotic vision of the two woman making love turned his stomach, it otherwise enhanced the imagination of what he wanted for himself. He wanted Dulcie. He wanted her taste in his mouth, his tongue caressing her warm skin, her innocence beguiling him a second time before he left for the Peninsula. He might come home maimed and broken, and he wanted to remember the feeling before dying, his breath pumping out of his lungs.
Removing his evening clothes, Griff threw on a light robe. He snugged the belt tight around his middle, knotting the sash. Barefoot, he opened the door gently into the dimly lit hallway. He didn’t expect to meet anyone at this time of the night, but he hurried to Dulcie’s room, praying she hadn’t thrown the bolt. When the door pushed open, he slipped inside.
Only embers lit the fireplace. Neither Dulcie nor her maid had pulled the window drapes closed. The moon’s light still penetrated, its beams enough for him to find his way to the bed. He undid the knot, removed his robe, and dropped it onto a chair. Slowly, stealthily, tentatively, he rested a bent knee on the mattress, holding his breath, taking his time before the final move.
Griff saw Simon had awakened. He was stretched out in front of the fireplace. He lifted his head and let his tail swish, sweeping the carpet silently. But he didn’t rise. The dog exhaled audibly, closed his eyes, and laid his head down again.
“Is that you, Simon?” Dulcie mumbled, half asleep. She swung her raised head toward the fireplace. “Eek! Who’s there?” Reaching hurriedly for the spectacles lying on her night table, Dulcie plopped them onto her pert nose.
Simon jumped up, heading toward the bed, hearing his mistress’s shriek of fear.
Griff leaned over and placed a warm palm over Dulcie’s mouth, skewing the spectacles lopsidedly where they sat on her nose. “Shh, Dulcie, it’s only me. Griff.”
“Griff?” She blinked behind her crooked lenses.
He knelt on the mattress, yanked his hand away, and grabbed her shoulder. “Yes. Only me.”
“But…but what are you doing here now?” she whispered, looking up at him and straightening the spectacles on the bridge of her nose. “Is something wrong? Is the house on fire or something?”
“No, the house is not on fire.”
“What then?”
I’m on fire, he said silently.
Dulcie pulled the blankets higher on her chest. “I don’t understand.” She got a better look when her spectacles were properly aligned. “Griff! Your chest is bare!”
That isn’t all that’s bare, he was about to tell her.
It took him a minute to realize that words weren’t going explain his actions. He leaned closer to her. He slid a big hand around her nape and brought her mouth up to his, covering her lips with his kiss.
“Umphf!”
The spectacles were bumped off, and they landed on the coverlet.
Griff muffled Dulcie’s sharp exclamation and withdrew almost immediately, but only long enough to say, “I had to see you one more time, Dulcie, after our kiss on the balcony.”
Without asking permission, he gathered her into his embrace and lifted her against his chest, pulling her up, both of them now kneeling in the middle of the bed.
“Gr-iff?”
“Don’t tell me no, Dulcie. I-I didn’t plan to see you after the ball, but…well, I have things to finish before I go, and I wanted to say a proper good-bye. I need to…”
He suddenly loosened his hold. “Well, maybe this is a bad idea, after all.”
Within a second or two, Dulcie threw her arms around his neck and clung to him. She kissed him with such unfettered fervor it stunned him. It felt almost the way she had when the aphrodisiac raced through her bloodstream. He licked her lips, nibbled at the corners with gentle pinches. When he felt her lips move into a smile in the midst of a kiss, and her mouth softening, he did more to arouse her.
His hands caressed her, cupped her breasts over her night rail. She had no protection now, no corsets to impede his caresses as he teased her nipples into tiny, hard buds, showing her how much he lusted for her.
His kisses deepened.
She responded almost immediately.
Was she putting more ardor into her kisses? He wondered. Could she possibly have learned new tricks since a few hours ago? He wanted to find out.
“I want to make love to you, Dulcie. Let me. I wanted to while we were on the balcony, and I still want to.”
She didn’t hesitate. “Oh, yes, Griff, I want you to.”
She lay i
n his arms pliant, warm, soft, and willing. His erection grew to its proper size, a raging rush of blood stiffening and enlarging his cock within seconds. But first, he wanted to savor more of her kisses, inhale her bodily perfume, taste her skin, devour her woman’s sensuality—before burying himself inside her.
Griff helped Dulcie remove her nightclothes, leaving her naked. She seemed uncomfortable until he told her how lovely she was, repeating how she intrigued him right from the beginning.
“Your skin glows, Dulcie,” he said. “I never saw anyone who looked so beautiful in silvery moonlight the way you do.”
All of her physical enhancements, especially her long, curvaceous legs, were enticing, alluring, strengthened from daily exercise. While they toured London, Dulcie had told Griff that she and Simon walked and rambled over the Surrey hills most every day in good weather, visited her father’s tenant families, and mentioned again being fond of the gardener’s son. Aware of what Dulcie told him about Denny Wall, he was still part of her coming of age, as well as her childhood. A twinge of unreasonable jealousy had settled in Griff’s gut.
Griff nuzzled the velvety skin of Dulcie’s neck, ran his warm lips along a collarbone and down one arm to her fingertips. He grabbed her hand and sucked on her fingers until he saw her smile in the wavering light of the moon.
He left her fingertips and made his way up to her lips for another session of passionate kisses. He was filled with thoughts of being with her for the past week. Desire had grown and escalated over that period. Now he was bursting to have her, to share carnal pleasures again with her.
Griff moved over Dulcie where she lay, resting on her torso while he teased her to responsiveness with a libertine’s experienced lips and caresses. Soon, she writhed restlessly beneath him; she made him harder, his penis pulsing wildly.
He sucked on her nipples until she groaned softly and gripped his head to hold him to her bosom. He raised his head and saw her eyes were shut tight and watched her head swivel side to side on the pillows. Her hips pumped gently against his. He dragged his lips lower to tease her navel, sticking his wet tongue in and out of the small depression.
As his lust demanded more, Griff grew ravenous, savoring his erotic thoughts about laving and devouring the more intimate parts of her body he could reach with his tongue. He lifted on his elbows, next to her thighs, moved her thighs apart, and went down on her before she had a chance to stop him. He swiped his tongue along her cleft, and she jerked up off the mattress.
“Oohh! Gr-ifff, oh no!”
“Dulcie! Let me do this!” he commanded, pressing her back down. “Let me love you! Every part of you that I want to touch and taste is delicious, sweetheart.” He plied her further with more of his heated kisses, until she finally relaxed. He rubbed a talented finger against her swollen sheath. When she didn’t protest, he continued caressing until she pressed her mound upward, pleading for more.
Dulcie’s clenched fingers opened and closed on the mattress next to her. “Yes. Oh my, yes, Griff. But, help me…I want…oh, God!”
He knew she was drenched with sexual juices, slick and hot, gushing from the opening of her vagina. He gently pushed a searching finger inside, then a second one, and began to stroke its walls.
“Dulcie, let yourself come! Get what you want! Do it for me, love, for me!”
Her choking moans emptied into the air in the room with want and need. Griff desperately wanted her to climax before he gained his own release.
She opened her legs wider, leaned into his caresses, pumping to meet his stroking rhythm.
He gauged her movements, her breathing, and knew she was almost ready to experience sensations she may not have enjoyed under the influence of the aphrodisiac. Her core muscles begin to twitch and then convulse, and he stroked Dulcie faster, harder, until she forced out a long, keening wail, very much like a dog’s howl.
Dulcie’s fingers gripped Griff’s muscled biceps, her fingernails digging into his flesh, shaking with tremors as she tensed, exploded, and came.
Simon’s nose rose, and he howled in concert with Dulcie’s long wail of blissful satisfaction.
Griff pulled his fingers out of her body, positioning himself between her thighs. He braced his elbows and sought the wet and willing entrance to her pussy. Slowly, holding his breath, he aimed the full length and thickness of his penis into her, plunging as far as his cock could go, then stopped.
He was panting, breathing hard and fast. He stroked, his movements growing harder, the muscles in his thighs and buttocks clenching as he pushed in and pulled out. He gripped her buttocks, raising her slightly off the mattress, changing position to intensify his movements, rubbing intensely against her most sensitive spot. He was about to gain release, but he wanted her with him. He reached between their bodies with a thumb and caressed her clit. In seconds, he felt her inner muscles again grow taut.
She must have learned how to reach for the moon, fly to the edge of the precipice, and soar higher than ever before.
He forgot himself for the second time in his libertine life. He pulled out one more time then plunged into her core. His release shuddered through him like an earthquake trembling beneath him, or like thunderous waves of power, spewed from artillery guns in the midst of battle. A new, unique, sweet, taste of heaven rushed through him as he came—along with rollers of pleasure, gripping him until he was breathless and limp.
The walls of her vagina still quivered, milking seed from his cock.
Griff slumped on top of Dulcie, his breathing rapid as air feathered beneath her chin. She hadn’t moved, other than her chest going up and down as she pulled in shallow breaths. He rested his cheek against her, aware that he should remove himself. It took a minute or so until he was able to roll off of her and closed his eyes. He meant to go back to his room as soon as he recovered from the absolutely explosive episode of mating with Dulcie again.
* * * *
When he awakened, dawn was peeking over the roofs of Mayfair. Dulcie was still asleep, her breathing a tiny purr next to his ear where she lay beside to him.
He hated to leave her, but it was time to go. He slid off the bed and donned his robe, fastening the sash tight. He looked down at Dulcie a few moments longer, allowing himself to burn her image into his memory. He didn’t expect to see her ever again.
Griff left Eberley House before either Dulcie or the countess awoke. He checked in with the commanders in Whitehall, tied up the loose ends about his re-enlistment, then stopped by Rand’s townhouse to say farewell to his friend and wish him luck with his courting of Desdemona Burlington.
“I am reminded, Rand, what my cousin said while we were dancing. That she wasn’t interested in callow, persistent youths—the ones who flocked around her. Rather, I daresay, she fancies a more mature suitor. Like you, if I got the drift.”
“Did she say that? Did she mention me by name?”
“Well, no, not in so many words, but I suggest that you don’t fawn all over her like the young puppies. Courting is fine, so be interested and attentive, but not overly so. Let her flirt and make eyes at you. Before you know it, Rand, old man, Dessie will be pursuing you instead of the other way ‘round.”
“Is that your sage advice, Griff? Is that how you won Dulcina Trayhern’s hand?”
“Me? No, not at all. I’m afraid my engagement to Dulcie was arranged by the countess. I needed Dulcie’s dowry, and the countess wanted her stepdaughter married. No love lost between us.”
It should only be true, Griff thought, remembering last night.
* * * *
When Griff returned to Eberley House and tapped on the door to which he had been summoned, he surmised Dulcie was still in her room.
“It’s about time you came back,” Agina snapped.
Her two fluffy cats lay on the settee with her, one on her lap, the other one sleeping beside her. Agina slowly caressed bejeweled fingers along the silky spine of the sleepy-eyed feline, who blinked and purred aloud with satisfaction. The secon
d cat snuggled against the countess’s hip.
“Where have you been, Spencer? Did you know that my foolish stepdaughter left the house sometime early this morning before I rose? She left me a note, the ungrateful chit. She says there is an emergency at Bonne Vista, and she must return to the country. Can you believe it? Well, I’ll fix that! You, Griff, are to go immediately to Surrey and fetch her back to Town.”
“I don’t believe I can do that, Countess. You see, I, too, will be leaving Town later today.”
“What? What do you mean? You can’t simply run off. You have responsibilities! The wedding is set for two weeks hence!”
“I can and I will, madam. I’ve been ordered to the Peninsula.”
“Don’t be stupid. You were drummed out of the army a month ago. You can’t fool me with your Banbury tales. I know all about your expulsion from the army!”
Damnation! The witch knows about that. She must have spies everywhere.
“I re-enlisted, Countess. Less than a week ago.” He laughed without a touch of humor. “So you cannot manipulate either me or Dulcie into marriage. Seems you are out of luck. The boot is quite on the other foot. I doubt I will return in time for that dreaded day of November twenty-second, Dulcie’s twenty-first birthday, eh?”
The countess jumped up, dumping both cats off the couch. They growled and hissed audibly, whiskers twitching. A double show of feline animosity that flattened their ears against their skulls, after being awakened so precipitously and shoved abruptly to the floor during the countess’s rush across the room to confront Griff.
“Does my stepdaughter know that you’ve jilted her?”
“She hasn’t been jilted. Dulcie knows I am leaving to fight against the egomaniac, Napoleon Bonaparte. She gave me leave to wait for us to marry until I return. It seemed a logical request in case I am killed in the meantime.” His lips twisted into a sarcastic smirk. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Auntie? But nevertheless, Dulcie and I are still betrothed. The announcement was promulgated in all the London papers. It’s a done thing, Countess. The wedding shall simply be postponed until the war is won. I sail tomorrow from Dover.”
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