Duchess for a Day

by Peggy Waide

  "Desire, Jocelyn? Blind, mind-dulling lust?" He was shouting now. "Jocelyn, my lust is so great, I'm surprised my eyes aren't permanently crossed. My fondest wish is to taste your lips until you open your mouth for me. Kiss your nipples to life. Caress every inch of your body until both of us are mindless. To bury myself so deep within your womb, you see nothing, hear nothing, feel nothing, except me. Is that what you want?"

  He was so close to her, she could feel his breath upon her face, smell the strong masculine scents of heather and brandy. She could only manage reedy bits of air to escape from her mouth, her mind frantically absorbing his comments.

  A gentle hand tucked an errant curl behind her ear. "Rest."

  "Rest?" she squeaked. "Now?"

  "Yes. I will see you later. We will finish this discussion then." A faint smile tugged at his mouth over her apparent disappointment. "I promise." He bent to place a tender kiss on her lips.

  She almost laughed at the suggestion that she rest. She almost ordered him to stay. She almost cried at the intense sensation of loss. Instead, her mind drifted peacefully into oblivion and she slept, dreaming of unfulfilled promises.

  Jocelyn felt as though she were floating like a leaf on a warm summer breeze. She yawned and slowly emerged from the sleepy fog to find herself tight within Reyn's embrace at the top of a spiral staircase she had never seen before. An ancient wooden door opened before her. When Reyn carried her across the threshold and into the cylindrical tower, she gasped. Hundreds of flickering candles perched on tiny ledges climbed the stone walls. A circle of open windows near the ceiling allowed the fragrant scents from the passing rainstorm to fill the room along with an owl's cry, an occasional cricket's song and other sounds of night. In the center of the room stood an ornately carved dais of mahogany that supported an enormous bed draped with an assortment of plush furs. Huge satin pillows in the vibrant shades of spring decorated the bed.

  As she reasoned out the purpose of this nocturnal excursion, her body thrummed in anticipation. She whis pered, afraid any sound would break the enchantment. "Is it real?"

  "Very." Reyn's husky voice tickled her ear. "I told you I would see to you later. I always keep my promises."

  "What is this place?" she asked, still in awe.

  "This, my dear, is the creation of my great-grandfather. During his later years, to properly satisfy the maids in his bed, he felt he needed a bit of magic to aid his cause. A gypsy recommended he build a special chamber specific to her instructions, guaranteeing the results, of course. This is it."

  "What in particular makes this room so special?"

  "The dimensions from the length of the bed to the space between the candle ledges on the walls are proportional to a certain part of his anatomy."

  "I don't understand."

  "Ali," he said in a drawl, "my little innocent. I can only say, my relative must have been generously endowed and gifted."

  "Truly?" She couldn't understand how a body part enhanced a man's lovemaking skills. She glanced around the chamber, looking for a clue to his explanation. "Did the room serve its purpose?"

  "According to stories, he died a happy, sated man, a grin forever etched upon his face."

  "Was the room beneficial to the ladies?"

  The corner of Reyn's mouth twitched. Jocelyn thought he might laugh, though she couldn't imagine why. She tilted her head, raised her left brow and waited for an answer.

  Settling Jocelyn amongst the lush furs, he tenderly kissed the frown from her brow. "The last thing I wish to do is discuss my relative's sexual prowess."

  Aware of everything about her, she savored the luxurious feel of the fur on her skin, nestling deeper into its softness. Reyn's expression abruptly changed to the dark and stony lord she knew and loved.

  "You little minx. Do you have any idea what you do to me?" he asked as he sank to the bed on one knee, his arms framing her shoulders. "I intend to make love to you gilded by moonbeams and candlelight."

  Her entire body quivered, from the top of her head to the tips of her toes, as she remembered his sensual kisses. She cradled his cheek with the palm of her hand and said, "I feel as though I'm dreaming and will wake to be gravely disappointed."

  "If you continue to watch me like that, I'm likely to forget my vow to go slowly and take you like an untried lad. Then we'll both be disappointed. Are you sure about this?"

  Passion blazed in his eyes, and her breath quickened. In her heart, she knew she wanted this time with Reyn. No matter the consequences. "Very."

  He dropped his forehead to hers. "Thank God. You have no idea how long I have dreamed of this." Slowly, he slipped each button of her nightgown loose. As he smoothed away the fabric, he spoke, his voice ragged. "You are so beautiful."

  Reyn gazed at her breasts, saying nothing. Although she had lost her virginity, the actual mating between man and a woman was foreign to her. Dark oblivion had claimed her before Rodney's final assault. Reyn continued to stare. Her anxiety grew. At a loss what to do, she tugged the lace edges of her gown together. "Wait. I do not remember anything that happened with.. .you know." She turned her face away from his. "I don't know what to do."

  With gentle ease, he clasped her chin and encouraged her to look at him. "Jocelyn, you have nothing to fear and certainly nothing to hide. I have experienced your natural taste for passion. Nothing but pleasure will come from this night. For both of us." He brought his lips to hers with the skill of a painter, brushing lightly, testing the texture of his canvas.

  At first, Jocelyn lay uninvolved, weighing the sensations gathering throughout her body. As the pressure of his kiss increased, so did the hunger in the pit of her stomach. He continued to kiss her. Long, deep, drugging kisses that explored every recess of her mouth. Kisses meant to entice and conquer, that transformed hunger into a ravenous craving demanding to be fed. Masterful kisses that obliterated any shy thoughts or fears until she no longer cared or questioned the actions of the man who hovered above her.

  Her skin felt flushed, and suddenly her nightgown seemed too confining. She returned his kiss with equal ardor and eagerly welcomed his hands on the remaining pearl buttons.

  When he bared her breasts a second time, Reyn groaned. "I vow I will go slowly, no matter how badly I want you." With his thumbnail, he gently circled first one puckered nipple, then the other. "I cannot believe I waited this long to make love to you."

  She arched her back slightly. He bestowed soft, teasing strokes down her throat, across her collar bone to her breasts, brushing the tips until she whimpered for more. He settled to suckle her right breast while his hand fondled the left. She pressed into his hands, needing his touch, thinking she'd die if he stopped. Back and forth, he alternated his attentions until he slid his hand downward, slowly dragging her nightgown lower, exposing her body. Even the night air didn't cool her desire. "Wait."

  His hand on her thigh froze. His body glistened in the candlelight. "Lord, Jocelyn, please don't tell me to stop. If you've changed your mind, I'll simply have to change it back again."

  Hoping her actions weren't too bold, she whispered shyly, "I only want to see you."

  Reyn grinned, his relief apparent. Eagerly he shed his shirt, carelessly tossing the garment to the floor. From behind half-closed eyelids, he watched her tentatively stroke his chest. He pulled her back into his arms and buried his face in her neck. The dark, crisp matting of hair covering his chest teased her nipples. The hair at his nape felt luxuriously soft. And as her hands drifted lower, the bulging muscles of his back and tight, rounded buttocks provided interesting planes to explore. Drawn to the unknown like a conquering adventurer, eager yet uncertain of what she might find, she traced the raw power of him that pressed against his breeches.

  Reyn gasped at her tender inquiry as if scalded. He stood beside the bed to quickly discard the rest of his clothing, then let her look her fill.

  She gaped at the man before her. She had seen him without clothes before, felt his manhood pressed against her thig
h, but confusion mixed with years of lessons in proper ladylike behavior had restrained her open appreciation of his body. Tonight, she savored every naked inch of him. He was beautiful. Hesitantly, she reached out and touched him.

  "Sweet mercy, Jocelyn."

  She snapped her hand back to her side. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

  He dropped to his knees on the bed. Perspiration dotted his brow. He kissed her fingers. "Oh, darling, it's not really pain. More like slow torture. But enough for now, my love. I've simply wanted you for too long. It is time we advanced your lessons." He evidently saw the questions in her eyes. "Jocelyn, this is not the time for modesty. Know that everything we do is natural between a man and a woman."

  "I trust you, Reyn."

  He groaned, lay back down beside her and brought his mouth down to hers. Hard. Once he added her night gown to his discarded clothes on the floor, his fingers sought and found her heated core. Matching the rhythm of his tongue, he tenderly prepared her for his invasion.

  "Oh, blessed saints," she cried. She never imagined, couldn't believe men touched women like this. Although her mind fought such intimacy, her body surrendered, allowing her traitorous thighs to open. Insensible love words like a litany joined the incantations of her body while she arched shamelessly against his hand. She felt as though her entire body were on fire, ready to burst into flame. Still Reyn assaulted her, insisting she respond. When her world exploded in ripple after ripple of undiluted passion, she cried out his name.

  He covered her body completely with his. "Jocelyn, look at me." His eyes bored into hers with a look she dared not defy. "Whatever happened before, nothing matters. From now on, you belong to me."

  "Aye, my lord," Jocelyn said. His simple admission, electric with emotion, shot a tremor through her extremities as she felt the blunt hardness of his manhood probe her femininity. She pulled his head down for another kiss. All her senses coalesced into this single moment. She smelled the primitive scent caused by their lovemaking, saw the flickering candlelight, tasted the sweat on her upper lip, heard Reyn's harsh breathing, felt the sleek, taut heat of her body stretching, knew the shocking instant when he possessed her completely. She rejoiced in the joining.

  Reyn raised himself on his elbows and looked directly at her. "My God, Jocelyn. Are you all right?"

  Why did he appear so stunned? Surely, there was nothing unusual about their lovemaking. She wanted to shout to the heavens. Now she truly was his wife. Tenderly, she kissed his eyes, his nose, his lips. "Reyn, I am perfectly fine. I believe, sir, you are a sorcerer."

  Dropping his chin to her forehead, he spoke. "My dear wife, it is you who have bewitched me." Gradu ally, he withdrew, only to sink into her depths again, watching her every response. "You sang your siren's song and captured me." Another slow, deep thrust followed his words, and she raised her hips to his in an attempt to preserve the link. "Not so fast, sweet." Retreating and advancing with the tactical skill of a major general, Reyn controlled his ardor, unwilling to yield to her growing physical demands. "I have suffered dearly and intend to extract every ounce of pleasure from both of us."

  Faster. Deeper. He increased the pace as her body again began to hum with pleasure. Giving. Taking. Eagerly accepting his powerful lunges. Like a creature of the night, her cries of ecstasy blended with the sounds that filtered into their mystical domain.

  After his final thrust, spilling his seed deep inside her, Reyn collapsed to the side, taking her into his arms in a tight, possessive embrace.

  With her head tucked against his chest, Jocelyn slept the sleep of the dead. Reyn, on the other hand, lay wide awake, deep in thought. She'd been a virgin. A blasted virgin. Had he not been the one to breach her maidenhead, he wouldn't have believed it possible. He had seen the virgin's blood smeared across her thighs himself. A multitude of questions and assumptions trod across his mind, but the mystery would have to wait.

  He cursed. Why hadn't he bothered to question her before? He knew the answer. He'd been a coward. Feeling responsible, he'd been afraid to hear the gruesome details from her lips, along with her rebuke.

  For weeks, he swore he wouldn't make love to her until she told him the truth. Bent on seduction as a means to find answers to his questions, he found he had been the one to be seduced by her innocence, her sincerity, her warmth and intelligence. Not to mention the fact that he wanted her in his bed. Badly. Even then, he hadn't planned on making love to her. Not until she gave him answers. He had told himself Rodney's attack had changed that. He had wanted to erase that nightmare from her mind, to tutor her in the pleasures of the body. He scoffed at the idiotic rationalization. He would have made love to her anyway. He'd lost the silent battle tonight when she offered her tender revelations. She had sealed their fate. She was his.

  Jocelyn curled into him. Like a stallion sensing a mare's need, he responded. With his randy body wishing she would wake, his mind knowing she needed to sleep, he climbed from the bed. The covers slid to the side to reveal high, firm breasts, a narrow waist, rounded hips and long, graceful legs, as well as a small mole on her left buttock. Who are you? What is it you fear? What am I to do with you?

  Expecting no answers, he crossed to the small brazier in the corner, stirred the fire and warmed a damp rag with the heat. As he cleansed away the proof of her innocence, Jocelyn sighed, lifting herself against the cloth. Even in her sleep, she caused his blood to boil. Ready to forget his decision to let her sleep, he sighed. She needed rest. Being a patient man, he could wait. For her. And the answers to his questions. He stoked the fire one last time, then slipped back into bed.

  As the faint light of dawn warmed the room, Jocelyn stirred. Reyn pulled her into his arms. When she pressed her body to his, he was stunned by the powerful urge to bury himself deep inside her. Before lust seized control, he wanted answers to his questions. He kissed her brow. "Feeling better?"

  Trapped in the fading haze of sleeplessness, she yawned, then smiled. "Describe better."

  He playfully tweaked her nose. "Enjoyed yourself, did you?"

  His words seemed to snap her awake. Her face flushed a lovely shade of red and she pulled the covers tightly to her body. "Thank you," she said evenly. "Since my previous experience is best forgotten, I appreciate your kindness."

  "Believe me, kindness had nothing to do with tonight. Considering my body's enthusiasm, I imagine I will show you how kind I can be again. Quite soon. But first I must ask you something. I would like to know about that night. What exactly do you remember about Rodney's attack?" Reyn felt her tremble in his arms and silently cursed his stupidity. "I know I never asked before. My behavior was inexcusable, but if you feel up to talking about it, I would like you to tell me."

  "Now?"

  "Only if you like." She nibbled on her lower lip and twisted the edge of the satin sheet. Reyn thought she might decline. He pulled her closer to his side, providing his warmth and, he hoped, his strength. He felt her nod against his chest.

  "I awoke thinking you had returned, only to find Rodney standing at the foot of my bed. He seemed strange. Agitated. I tried to calm him. He was drunk, Reyn. His mind was not right. I knew something was horribly wrong when he began to mumble this and that about revenge. He blamed you for all his troubles, said he was going to use me to get back at you."

  That flea-infested mongrel

  "After gagging me, he bound my hands and feet. Then he touched me."

  I would gladly castrate the bastard if only I could.

  "I tried to fight. Somehow I managed to free my hand. I grabbed my sewing scissors from the table and stabbed him."

  The blood.

  "He was furious and he hit me. After a bit I simply blacked out. Thankfully I can't remember the rest."

  Reyn's hands knotted into fists. His face contorted with deadly rage. Gullet him, castrate him, then kill him all over again.

  With her fingers, Jocelyn tenderly circled his brows, down to his lips. "It is over. I survived. Tonight, you obliterated an ugly, vi
le memory into nothingness."

  He muttered, more to himself than to her, "If you only knew." He hesitated a moment. "Jocelyn, about tonight. I'm sorry-"

  She interrupted. "Sorry? For what?"

  "Jocelyn-"

  "No! It wasn't your fault," she snapped. "I practically served myself to you on a silver platter."

  "Just hold for a moment."

  "Now that you know the truth about that night, you've changed your mind. I knew I should never have told you anything."

  "Jocelyn, you were still intact." He felt like a bungling idiot as he struggled for the right words. "Unsullied, untouched." Blankly, she stared. "Rodney did not take you." Flustered by her puzzled look, he burst out, "You were a virgin."

  "A virgin?"

  "Yes."

  "But how? I saw the blood. You saw it, too."

  He knew exactly to what she referred. "The only plausible answer I can muster is the scissors. The wound you inflicted must have been greater than you thought. Unable to perform the deed, the bastard, knowing me all too well, planned his revenge by planting the evidence to make it appear as though he'd raped you."

  Excitedly, she whooped and threw herself into his arms, planting tiny bites and kisses along his jaw, neck and shoulders.

  "What the devil?" He grabbed her hands and lifted her away. "Jocelyn, didn't you hear what I said? You were a virgin. You deserved the right to know before I made love to you."

  "Nonsense. From all external appearances, we made the same assumption. I refused to let the doctor examine me, so how could you have known?" Tenderly, she brushed her lips across his. "Thank you for a wonderful gift."

  Disconcerted by her unconditional praise and acceptance, he opted for a more lusty comment. "I should have stripped you of your clothes and dragged you to my bed the first night we met."

  "Hah! Floundering in your tub, I smelt like last week's fish. I looked pathetic," she teased. "A wisp of smoke possessed more substance than I."