The Bewitching Hour

by Diana Douglas

  “Yes.” She shivered again.

  “Are you positive?”

  Frustrated she said, “Yes!” Then pressed her palms against the sides of his face and pulled him over until his mouth covered her. She felt his shoulders shake with laughter until she touched the tip of her tongue to his and he responded by crushing her against him. The tone of his kiss changed to one of possession. His tongue swept through her mouth. At that moment he could do anything he wanted, take liberties she hadn’t dreamed existed and she wouldn’t stop him. No, it was more than that; she would welcome them. She felt a tug on the bodice of her gown and the caress of cool air against her bared breasts.

  “I plan to kiss every single delightful inch of you. No exceptions,” he murmured. “Starting here.” He bent his head and she felt a tremor rock through her as he pressed his lips against her breast.

  Shaken, she took in a sharp breath and put her hands in his hair cradling him against her as he kissed the hollow between her breasts. Her heart was pounding. She could feel the faint stubble of his jaw against her skin. The scent of bay rum and French milled soap sunk into her senses. “I didn’t know.”

  He lifted his head. “Didn’t know what, love?”

  She forced herself to breathe. “That this was done,” she managed to get out.

  “There’s a world of pleasure you’ve yet to experience. You’ve no idea how many times I’ve imagined doing this. You have the most beautiful breasts.” He lowered his head and touched her nipple with his tongue then softly blew his warm breath against it.

  Her belly clenched and she shuddered as she drew him closer. He took one breast in his mouth, the other palmed in his bare hand as he lightly circled the dark tip with his thumb. She rested her cheek against his hair and moaned softly, aware of nothing but the glorious way he made her feel.

  Pulling back he whispered, “Do you like this?”

  “Stop talking.” She closed her eyes and groaned, urging him back to her breast.

  He laughed softly. “I’ll take that as a yes.” His mouth returned to her breast, his tongue flicking the areole, his teeth nipping its peak. She flinched at the erotic mix of pain and pleasure. He palmed both breasts pressing them together, his thumbs continuing their caress, his tongue heating her skin as he explored the deep crevice between them. Her body soon became a myriad of sensations. A slow tension began to build within her, and she found herself restless, craving more than what he was giving. He seemed to sense her agitation.

  “Put your arms around my neck and lift up your bottom,” he ordered.

  His words moved through her and she did as he asked with complete trust, wrapping her arms around him and raising her hips.

  He placed his hands beneath her and pulled her skirts free so that her dress and chemise were hiked up around her waist and there was nothing between her and the table. The feel of the cool hard surface beneath her was strangely erotic. A pulsing between her legs filled her with need.

  “That’s better,” he whispered. He kissed her throat, then her mouth as he slowly ran his hands up her thighs. He stopped as he reached the bare flesh above her stockings, lightly caressing her skin before he moved on to the line of her hip, the indention of her waist. She shivered with anticipation as the dampness stirred between her legs.

  He stopped. “Are you cold, love?”

  She shook her head. “No.”

  “Should I stop?”

  Incapable of denying herself this bliss, she sagged against him. “Please, no.”

  He let out a slow breath and whispered hoarsely, “Thank God. I don’t know what I would have done had you said yes.”

  His hands spanned her waist and he slowly traced a line down her belly with a single fingertip dipping lower until he found the mass of curls at the junction of her thighs. “So soft,” he murmured. His gaze fixed on her face he began to massage her lightly, not touching the satin folds, but stroking around them until a coiled tension seized her.

  She caught her breath as her body lurched with both shock and desire. “I’m not sure you’re supposed to do that.”

  A faint rumble of laughter came from somewhere deep inside him. Instinctively she tried to lift her hips and move against him, but he held her trapped firmly on the table. "Not so fast, love,” he said. Holding her tightly around the waist he lifted her forward then nudged her thighs further apart. “Open your legs a little more.”

  She did and felt the shock of cool air as he parted her and further exposed the most intimate part of her body to his touch. He stroked her with feather light caresses, continuing on and on until she was breathless with need. It was an exquisite torture, her body desperately seeking what he would not give her. Then she gasped, realizing that he had eased his finger inside her and was stroking her intimately while his thumb continued to caress the sensitive bud at the uppermost region of her opening. She squirmed and writhed until an overwhelming spiraling need overtook her. He loosened his grasp and she began to move against him in search of release.

  “Do you want me, my love?”

  She took in a shuddering breath and nodded against his shoulder.

  “Say it,” he commanded.

  “I want you. Now!”

  With one hand he quickly unfastened his breeches and she felt the hard press of his desire nestled against the junction between her legs. Her slickness offered no resistance and he eased himself inside her only stopping when he reached the thin wall of her maidenhead. She shifted her hips, marveling at the feel of him inside her.

  “Wait,” he said hoarsely. But the need was too strong. She wasn’t certain who moved first but a second later she felt the sharp pain of her breeched maidenhead. She sucked in her breath and held still.

  He held her tightly. "Are you alright, love?"

  She shifted against him. The pleasure far outweighed the residual pain. “Yes.”

  “Lean back on your elbows,” he instructed. “And close your eyes. Don’t think about anything. Let me do it all.” He lifted her hips with one hand as he stroked her with the other and slowly began to move inside her. He was gentle at first, whispering tender words of love, building a rhythm; but the gentleness soon gave way to something more primal.

  She felt the heat he created within her with every stroke, the way he filled her with every thrust. She feasted on the sensations until need took hold and she couldn’t hold back. Using her arms as leverage, she spread her legs further apart and moved against him meeting each thrust with as much force as she was able. No one else existed. They had been stripped bare and all that was left was a desperate, heated need for pleasure and completion. She was helpless to do anything other than follow her urges. Each thrust became more forceful, the tempo increased until intense spasms of pleasure overtook her and she was completely lost in sensation. He groaned and shuddered, his hands gripping her around the waist as he pumped into her with his own release. She tried to slow the beating of her heart; took in a breath to meet the sudden need for air. Then she tightly wrapped her legs around his waist and allowed him to gather her up and hold her close.

  Moments passed and she let out a small sigh of contentment.

  “Did you enjoy yourself?” he asked gently.

  She didn’t want to interrupt this blissful haze with speech or thought, but reality was slowly returning and she managed to nod her head. “Have we been here long?”

  He laughed softly. “No longer than fifteen minutes. I wanted you so desperately I wasn’t able to hold back for very long. I wish we had all night. Good Lord, I could make love to you for hours on end.”

  Surely she hadn’t heard him right. “Hours? Heavens, what more could we do?”

  “There are many surprises in store for you; different ways to enjoy one another.” He eased out of her and put himself to rights. “Don’t get up just yet. Making love is somewhat messy and we need to be careful of your gown.”

  She was aware of a wet stickiness between her legs. He pulled out a handkerchief and gently wiped away wh
at he could. She felt her cheeks flush. Why would this intimate gesture embarrass her after what they had just shared? He had touched her intimately with his bare hands, been inside her. It made little sense for her to feel this way. Nevertheless, she was once again grateful for the darkness.

  “Don’t be alarmed if you see a little blood. I understand it’s normal to bleed a little the first time.”

  She thought that an odd choice of words for an experienced lover. “You understand?”

  He smiled. “I haven’t any firsthand experience to rely on. I’m not in the habit of seducing innocent young women. Though in this case, I’m not sure who seduced who.”

  “Your reputation says otherwise.”

  “My reputation is greatly exaggerated. I haven’t lived the life of a monk, but my exploits were nowhere what they were reported to be.”

  “And Mr. Danfield’s?”

  “His reputation is only slightly exaggerated, I’m afraid.” Putting his hands around her waist he swung her down from the table.

  She smoothed down her skirts. “Well, I suppose I’m glad you have some experience. I’m not sure how we would have muddled through, if you didn’t.”

  He laughed. “We would have managed, but I doubt it would have been quite as enjoyable. There is something to be said for experience. Now are you ready to face the world again? Or should we wait a little longer before going back?”

  She sighed reluctantly. “I suppose we should go.”

  “I’ll take you to the retiring room first.” He tilted her face up. “If there are any left, I expect a waltz before the evening is over.”

  “I’ll manage to squeeze you in among all my other suitors.”

  “I don’t like seeing you waltz with other men, Priscilla.”

  She felt the tension in his body. “I can’t refuse to waltz with other men.”

  “I don’t see why not. I don’t like seeing them hanging about you, either.”

  “You have your share of women batting their eyes at you as well,” she pointed out. “And it’s even worse, because their mothers are in tow as well.” Good Lord, she was just as jealous as he was.

  “It’s brutal,” he admitted. “A mama determined to marry off her daughter can be a formidable foe. Would you believe Lady Farrington gave me the run down on all three of her daughters? Dowry, schooling, physical attributes. She even assured my aunt within my hearing that all the women in the family were good breeders.”

  Priscilla clapped her hand over her mouth to cover an inelegant snort of laughter. “No! What did you say?”

  “I said ‘How fortunate. That almost makes up for their shrewish personalities.’”

  “You didn’t.”

  “No, but I wanted to.”

  Though his face was partially obscured in the shadows she looked closely at him. He was utterly handsome, easy going and relaxed as if a life altering event had not just taken place. Except that it wasn’t life altering. Not for him anyway. But she wouldn’t think about that tonight. It was a glorious moment and dwelling on any repercussions would only spoil everything. Instead she took his arm and simply said, “It’s time to go.”

  After turning Priscilla over to one of the young men on her dance card, an infatuated young man who was far too gangly and awkward to prove any kind of rival, Stratton made his way toward the red salon, hoping he might be able to win back some of the money he’d lost the past few weeks. Not that it really mattered. At present, he was jubilant, thrilled with his good fortune and nothing short of disaster would dampen his mood. He was about to round the corner when an angry male voice brought him to an abrupt halt.

  “Don’t be foolish. Whatever you believe me guilty of, I’m not willing to allow you to find your own way home.”

  Blast. The last thing he wanted to do was walk into the middle of a quarrel.

  “It’s a little late to pretend to be a gentleman.” The woman’s tone was scornful.

  “You’ve laid insults at my feet all evening.”

  “Well deserved insults.”

  Stratton prepared to slip away before they realized he was there, but changed his mind when he heard the man say roughly, “Don’t walk away from me, my lady. We haven’t finished here.”

  “Don’t you dare lay a hand on me.”

  Bloody hell. It sounded as if she was being threatened. He’d have to intervene. Stratton rounded the corner to see Lady Williams backed up against the wall with Lord Bennett a few feet in front of her. Her dark eyes were narrowed and two bright spots of color stood out on her cheeks. She appeared more angry than frightened. Lord Bennett’s hands were at his side; he didn’t appear to be a threat.

  “Is there a problem?” Stratton asked evenly.

  Lady Williams looked up at him and the gratitude on her face was visible. “Lord Stratton,” she said faintly. “There’s nothing to be concerned about. It seems an urgent matter has arisen and Lord Bennett is unable to see me home this evening. We were just discussing the problem.”

  Lord Bennett turned and nodded his acknowledgement. His normally smooth countenance was tight with anger.

  There seemed no way out of it. Stratton often wished his mother had been less diligent in teaching him to be a well mannered gentleman. It had proved to be a great inconvenience on more than one occasion. He stifled a sigh. “My lady, if you’ve no objection, I’ll be more than happy to escort you home. We will be taking our leave around one. I know most of the ton does not hold with early hours, but we’ve not yet adjusted to town schedules. I trust the time will not be of inconvenience to you this evening.”

  She gazed at him through lowered lashes. “If you’re certain this will not put you out, my lord. One o’clock is quite agreeable.”

  “It is no inconvenience at all.”

  Lord Bennett cleared his throat. “I’m most grateful for your offer,” he said stiffly. “Now, I must speak with our hostess and be on my way.” He offered a curt nod, turned on his heel and walked away.

  Damn. Stratton had the feeling he had just been manipulated.

  Lady Williams moved away from the wall, her burgundy gown shimmering with every step. “You heard our conversation?” she asked quietly as she came up beside him.

  He nodded. “Some of it.”

  “I’m indebted to you, my lord. It was a most difficult situation.” She shivered slightly. “I don’t believe he would have hurt me, but I was frightened. You won’t mention this to anyone, will you? It could be somewhat embarrassing.”

  “It will go no further than the two of us.” He tapped his finger against his lips and frowned thoughtfully. “I must say it seems oddly out of character for Lord Bennett.” He shrugged it off. “Well, that’s neither here nor there, at this point. Would you like to return to the ballroom?”

  “Yes, thank you.” She smiled gratefully and took his arm.

  It was well after midnight before Priscilla was in his arms again.

  Continuously aware of his presence for most of the evening she had observed with interest that he had been very much the gentleman, dancing with debutants and matrons, bluestockings and ape leaders, paying no more attention to the season’s diamond of the first water than to the season’s projected failures. He was gracious and charming to all, even sharing a dance with his Aunt Mirabella. She wished he weren’t so devastatingly handsome, wished he didn’t fill her with need every time he touched her, but most of all she wished she hadn’t fallen in love with him. But she wouldn’t think about that tonight.

  He led her onto the dance floor and murmured smoothly, “I missed you.”

  “You’ve been quite busy, I don’t see how you’ve had time to miss me,” she commented trying to deny the desire that was building up inside her again.

  “I was only appeasing Aunt Mirabella. She becomes quite cross if I don’t dance with enough ladies. You’ve been busy yourself. You have quite a number of admirers.”

  “I suppose.”

  “I was sorely tempted to punch out one in particular.”<
br />
  She laughed. “Who?”

  “Lord Mallory. I would have cut in if I hadn’t been dancing with some young debutant at the time. He does seem to have some sort of proprietary interest in you.”

  "I assure you, it is in his mind only." He smiled and pulled her closer. It felt nice just waltzing, not talking or laughing, but simply enjoying the sensation of being in his arms. But the music eventually ended and he led her to the edge of the dance floor.

  His eyes searched her face and then he said, “We’ll be leaving soon, but I will be by to see you tomorrow afternoon. Around two, if you’ve no other plans.”

  She nodded slowly.

  He turned her hand over slowly and brought it to his lips. Somehow it seemed as intimate as anything they had shared that evening. She shivered and attempted to withdraw her hand.

  He held her hand firmly in his grasp. “Priscilla,” he said sharply. “Don’t.”

  She moistened her lips. “Don’t what?”

  “Don’t deny what you feel.” Then, his tone softened. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Why can’t the stupid cow just shut up? Lady Williams’ hands clenched beneath the folds of her cape as she refrained from clapping her hands over Mirabella’s mouth to stop the relentless stream of chatter pouring from her lips.

  “And don’t you think Lord and Lady Edgerton seemed blissfully happy?” Lady Fitzberry continued. “I for one never thought they would suit even though there were many gains to be made from their marriage. I heard her dowry included estates in East Retford and Mansfield. Can you imagine it? Why one could travel for days and never leave Edgerton land. And I heard there was a pot full of money, as well. But if a couple doesn’t suit, then all the land and all the money in the world won’t make them happy. And I do think it’s important to be happy, don’t you? Lord Fitzberry and I were immensely happy. Immensely happy. And my dear sister and the earl are very content with one another. I do hope Eugie and Cecelia will find the same contentment in their matches.”

  Good God! Her ears were ringing from the high pitched drivel and every time the wretched woman nodded her head that ridiculous pink feather hat slapped her in the face. Something would have to be done. Why did he allow her to prattle on so? She coughed delicately to catch Stratton’s attention then pressed her fingertips against her temples as if she had a headache.