But when she looked up into Leonard’s eyes, the bubbles of pleasure began to stir, and with them the kinetic urge to rock and wriggle and clench herself around him. And with that returned her awareness of their surroundings, and the stranger who was watching from the nearby chesterfield.
As Leonard started to thrust in a long, deep rhythm, Mary arched her body, leaning right back against the top of the desk and lifting her hips to meet him. She gripped hard on to the mahogany edge to give her purchase, aware that the action lifted her breasts to greater prominence. More exposed than ever, her nipples ached for attention, and as her husband was holding her hips, in order to control the way he swived her, it was to their guest that Mary found herself inclining.
Her eyes engaged with Benedict’s and she passed her tongue across her lower lip, then rolled her shoulders. She didn’t say, Come to me… but it seemed she didn’t need to. Tall and dark, he rose from the chesterfield and crossed the room.
Mary captured Leonard’s gaze, and gave him a wink and a creamy smile. Then closing her eyes, she surrendered to pleasure, and sensation…and the attentions of two very fine men.
Leonard continued fucking her, and even though she could no longer see him, she could feel the absolute focus of his efforts. Holding her tight, he thrust and shoved, his strokes sometimes long and slow, other times short and rough; and the way he swiveled his hips and rocked made her closed eyes cross. Despite their years together, he was revealing new zones of pleasure.
Benedict used his hands, and he was as clever at creating delight as he was with pain.
Cool fingertips explored her breasts, searching and tantalizing, traveling as lightly at first upon her as a feather. Mary flexed her spine, lifting her rib cage to encourage him. She wanted more from him, more pressure and a harder, wilder handling. No delicate bloom she, she wanted a rough and ready experience—everything rich, unfettered, savage even. A testing to her limits and perhaps beyond.
“More…more…” she urged, straining her body toward her two lovers with every sinew.
Leonard surged into her with yet more vigor. Benedict squeezed her breasts, molding her full curves, teasing and pinching her nipples and plaguing them mercilessly.
“More…more…more,” she chanted, taking all they could give, squirming and bucking and striving toward the magnificent pinnacle, a creature fashioned from love and from pleasure.
Love and pleasure. Pleasure and love.
The love for her dear husband, deep and abiding, forged by their life together and a new understanding of each other’s needs, desires and foibles.
And for their clever new friend?
Well, not love perhaps, but a strange affection. A regard almost maternal and fond, despite the extreme voluptuousness and perversity of their encounters.
“Ah…ah…my dear!”
Leonard was close, his hips pumping, giving his all. Mary was close, too, and hungry to share his moment of fulfillment. Her fingers clawed again at the edge of the desk and her hips lifted yet higher to meet her husband’s plunges.
So close. Almost there. Hovering on the very brink.
Then, oh, oh, wonderful… Even as he dove into ecstasy, losing his control, Leonard shifted his grip on her, freeing a hand. An instant later, Mary felt fingers pressing into her cleft to find the heart of her sensations.
Her husband shouted, growling out a rough oath as he spent, but still the miraculous fingertip rubbed and circled. Mary kicked her heels and bucked and shouted, howling like a she-cat as she matched her husband’s joy.
Lost in a white haze of delight, her eyes tight shut, she was aware of nothing but pleasure, her husband’s cock and those gracious male fingers still at work, lifting her higher, higher, yet higher.
And then, in a moment of revelation that almost made her laugh out loud, she realized that she wasn’t even precisely certain whose fingertip it was that was working between her thighs…but shimmering with bliss, she knew she really didn’t care.
Mary ran her fingers over the newly replenished blotter, aware that her companion was watching her closely. Taking her turn to host the Ladies’ Sewing Circle, it had amused her no end to offer the library as the venue.
“So, Mary my dear, how have your fared with our friend Benedict the specialist?” inquired Sofia Chamfleur.
Her innards a-flutter, Mary straightened the leather-backed rectangle for the third or fourth time, unable to contain the images and sensations it evoked.
The taste of brandy on her tongue, after the maelstrom of ecstasy had finally run its course. Silk against her hot skin, her kimono resumed, covering a body sore yet pulsating with life and well-being.
In her mind, she saw Leonard’s eyes, filled with hazy repletion and with pride in her and her performance. And Benedict, his serene demeanor shattering as he undid his buttons and pleasured himself in her honor while she and Leonard were still gasping for breath.
“Oh, very well indeed, Sofia. I can’t thank you enough for making the introduction.” Snatching her fingers from the blotter, afraid that she’d already piqued her friend’s vivid imagination by touching it at all, she smoothed at her gown instead. It was turning out to be impossible to keep a silly, girlish, self-satisfied grin off her face in this room, and she knew a more sensible person than herself would have chosen to welcome her guests in the parlor instead.
“Both Mr. Brigstock and I are most impressed with his accomplishments,” she went on, not looking Sofia in the eye, and knowing that her days as a sensible person were long, long gone now, never to return.
The notorious Madame Chamfleur’s well-shaped brows quirked. There was no hiding anything from her, no prevarication. “Mr. Holcombe speaks highly of his time spent in your company, too. In fact, he remarked that he finds you intriguing, and that you and your dear husband are among the most…shall we say…imaginative and open-minded of all the clients he’s encountered so far. High praise coming from a man of his experience.”
It was pure flannel, perhaps, but still Mary grinned. “Indeed, I do find that I have many inclinations of which I was previously unaware.” She paused, imagining for a moment that a faint fragrance rose from the desk, even though the blotting paper was new and the surface thoroughly polished. Drawing in the imagined scents, she seemed to smell the foxy odors of congress, a hint of perspiration and the artificial aromas of male shaving lotion—Benedict’s exotica and Leonard’s delicious citrus. “In fact, I’d go so far as to say that I’m almost considering becoming a specialist myself!”
Sofia’s eyes widened. “Good gracious, Mary…surely not with Mr. Holcombe? I…I don’t believe that’s his predilection, if you get my drift. He prefers to play a purely active role in these matters.”
Mary gave her friend a sideways look. “I agree…that’s the impression I’ve formed. Although I also sense that many gentlemen are prepared to make all sorts of concessions if the rewards are sufficient.”
“Mary! You’re becoming quite outrageous.”
“I fear I am, Sofia…I fear I am. And do you know, I don’t really give a fig.” With a swish of her skirts, Mary led the way to one of the chesterfields, the very one from which Benedict had observed her and Leonard. “I’m anxious to learn all manner of variations, and subject to his commitments, dear Benedict has offered to provide some instruction.”
“But what of your husband? What are his feelings in all this?”
Leonard’s hot eyes seemed to gleam at her, watching, watching, while his dear lips curved into a smile of admiration.
“Oh, he’s all for my education, don’t you know. He loves to both watch and to participate…and then to…well, reap the benefits afterward.”
“I would imagine he does!” Sofia laughed, conspiratorially, and Mary was the one to do the imagining. The handsome Monsieur Chamfleur probably reaped a good deal of benefits himself.
“I take my hat off to you, Mary,” her friend said warmly, taking her hand and giving it a squeeze. “Of all the Ladies of the
Circle, you’re the one I most hoped would come around to our enlightened way of thinking, and finally you have, with a most delicious gusto. I’m so proud of you.” Her grin widened. “At this rate you’ll soon be giving even Arabella and Prudence a run for their money!”
The two women hugged, and then, as they parted, Mary continued, “So, if you know a likely candidate, would you be able to introduce me to another of your gentlemen, perhaps? One who entertains the necessary preferences to assist me with my needs?”
Sofia nodded approvingly, her eyes twinkling. “You are incorrigible, Mary Brigstock. A natural born voluptuary. But I do believe I know just the fellow.”
In the middle of a most titillating description of the candidate’s qualities, the high jingle of the doorbell rang out downstairs. It seemed that the rest of the members of the Circle were starting to arrive.
“So, will you tell our sisters about your latest dalliances, Mary?” inquired Sofia as they made for the door on their way to greet the newcomers.
Mary paused for consideration. There weren’t many of the group who actually came out and revealed all. Most were more oblique, more circumspect, apart from one or two very notable exceptions.
“I think perhaps I’ll relate it as a game of the imagination rather than an actual event, Sofia.” She reached for the doorknob, glancing back into the room. “That might be the more discreet approach, n’est pas?”
“Indeed. Much more prudent,” agreed Sofia, her gaze flitting once again to the blotter. “Although I sincerely don’t think any one of them will be fooled for as much as a moment!”
“You’re probably right, Sofia.”
Mary chuckled, her own eyes on the desktop, but seeing another view entirely.
Two bodies entwined while a handsome “specialist” observed their joy.
THE END
For more scandal, check out the rest of the Ladies’ Sewing Circle series: A Gentlewoman’s Predicament, A Gentlewoman’s Ravishment and A Gentlewoman’s Pleasure, available now from Spice Briefs.
And don’t miss the next story in the series, In the Flesh, from HQN Books.
Watch for Portia Da Costa’s full-length novel in the Ladies’ Sewing Circle series, IN THE FLESH, from HQN Books.
Society already believes she’s a scarlet woman. Why not become one?
Posing nude to appease her now ex-fiancé perhaps wasn’t the most prudent idea Beatrice Weatherly has ever had. With the photographs scrutinized up and down the ton and her brother running them into debt, Beatrice’s hopes of making a respectable marriage are dashed.
After one glance at Beatrice’s infamous racy cabinet cards, wealthy, powerful Edward Ellsworth Richie is soon obsessed with Beatrice’s voluptuous figure. His indecent proposal—one month of hedonistic servitude in exchange for enough money to pay her brother’s debts—is one she can hardly refuse.
Determined not to let the rogue best her, Beatrice sets out for the infamous House of Madame Chamfleur to learn how to appease Edward’s well-known appetite. Soon the couple is playing out exquisite fantasies…and feeling emotion that goes deeper than flesh. But Edward harbors a shocking secret, and Beatrice must decide if she’s prepared to give up everything for a man who can offer her nothing, but who means everything.
Hungry for more? Spice Briefs to suit every taste are available now at www.spicebriefs.com, including these recent titles:
Immersed in Pleasure by Tiffany Reisz
My Innocent Indiscretion by Eva Cassel
A Gentlewoman’s Pleasure by Portia Da Costa
Gabriel’s Naughty Game by Madelynne Ellis
Carnal Punishment by Mia Crawford
Going Down by Saskia Walker
A Taste of Chi by Alison Tyler
The Revolutionary Mistress by Leia Rice
Taking Liberties by Jackie Barbosa
Tempting the New Guy by Alegra Verde
Let Me In by Lauren Hawkeye
For even more sexy stories—and to submit your own work—please visit www.CarinaPress.com!
ISBN: 978-1-4592-2406-3
A Gentlewoman’s Dalliance
Copyright © 2012 by Portia Da Costa
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