by Fiona Miers
Rupert held himself perfectly still and Lizzie stepped closer, so there was no gap between their bodies. She went up onto her tiptoes and pressed her lips to the hollow between his collarbones, savouring how warm and soft his skin was. Lizzie flicked her tongue out very gently to taste the skin there and was rewarded with a groan from Rupert as his hands came around and roughly grasped her bottom. Lizzie gasped at the heat of him, only two layers of silk keeping his hands from her skin.
“Shh,” she whispered, stroking his chest with her hands. “I won’t hurt you,” she whispered again. She didn’t know where the words came from, but she did indeed feel like she had captured a wild beast. Unused to the touches of a human, afraid of any tenderness she wanted to show him.
Rupert closed his eyes and shuddered under her touches.
Lizzie moved her hands to his breeches, unbuttoning them quickly and pushing them down his hips in one swift move. She had to slide down his front to accomplish this and found herself eye to eye with his impressive manhood. She was amazed that his huge organ had fit inside her so well, but fit it had. She had made it so twice already. She looked up so that she could see his face, but saw Rupert’s eyes were still closed.
Unable to resist, she pressed a single soft kiss to the large head, thanking it for all the pleasure it had given her two days before. Then she stood up.
Rupert’s breath hissed between his teeth and Lizzie loved the fact that she was affecting him.
She ran her hands over his chest, amazed that he was allowing her to take such liberties with his body. Her husband hadn’t even removed his nightshirt most of the times he had come to share her bed. Now she had this amazingly virile, naked male in her bedroom and at her mercy.
Lizzie stepped around Rupert’s massive frame, running her hands lightly over his back and down to his sculpted behind. He was truly magnificent, a warm, live sculpture of marble come to life.
Rupert raised his hands and pushed the straps of her nightgown off her shoulders. She let them slide all the way down to her feet and stood in front of him, unashamedly naked. There was no need to be silly or embarrassed. She had, after all, been married and there was no need to feign modesty now.
A feral growl rolled out of him as he picked her up and put her in the centre of the bed.
Lizzie lay back against the pillows bravely, not lifting her hands to cover herself. She had never been completely naked in front of a man before and certainly not with the candles still lit. Rupert had shared himself with many beautiful women. Would he desire her in comparison to all of them now?
“Am I all right?” Lizzie asked him nervously, wondering why he had so violently shaken his head a moment before. Perhaps she was too small? Or her breasts not full enough?
“All right?” Rupert croaked. “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.” He dropped a kiss on her lips and she frowned. Lying wasn’t necessary. She was already in bed with him. Rupert didn’t have to seduce her now.
“You don’t have to lie, Rupert. I’m not going to turn back now,” Lizzie assured him, a little disappointed.
Rupert laughed. A true, deep chuckle.
“Lie? About what? Look at my face, Lizzie.”
Lizzie dragged her eyes up to meet Rupert’s, his lie still hurting her inside.
“You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.” He repeated with emphasis, speaking slowly and clearly.
Lizzie stared into Rupert’s brilliant blue eyes and watched for any tightening of his mouth or ghosts in his eyes that would indicate an untruth. All she saw was fire.
“Kiss me,” Lizzie whispered, sliding her fingers into his shoulder length hair and gripping the back of his rounded skull.
Rupert slid on top of her and captured her mouth in a profound and possessive kiss.
Once her head was spinning, he moved back, then down her body, pressing her legs apart. He took one of her nipples into his mouth and she gasped, wanting him closer. Rupert sucked and gently bit one of her dark red nipples. When Lizzie moaned aloud, he lifted his head and gave her a devastating smile.
Lizzie smiled back and turned her body so that he could do the same to her other breast. Rupert laughed, deep in his throat and bent his head to her eager flesh again. He made his way down her body, gently kissing and licking every inch of skin that he found along the way. When Rupert found the centre of her, he pressed Lizzie’s legs open and planted a kiss on top of the dark blonde hair there.
“Rupert, are you sure you should be doing that?” Lizzie asked, faintly mortified that his face would be so close to that part of her. She tried to close her legs, but he wouldn’t allow it. She began to cover herself with her hands, but he held them to the side. Lizzie felt the panic inside her rising. This could not be correct behaviour.
Rupert laughed at her modesty and ran his tongue around the bit of flesh there. Lizzie screamed in acute pleasure, grabbing handfuls of the quilt on either side of her, but no longer trying to stop him.
She couldn’t believe how amazing what he was doing to her was. His tongue was playing havoc with her flesh and she was tightening on the inside as she had done during their time in the barn. She started panting, feeling herself being pushed towards that amazing plateau of pleasure.
Rupert stilled and pulled himself up so that he was face to face with her.
“Not this time,” he murmured, licking her lips and giving her a taste of what he had loved.
“I want us to come together,” he announced, moving his hips into position.
“Come?” Lizzie repeated not quite understanding what he meant. She had been so close to that ultimate pleasure, why had he stopped?
Rupert clenched his fists on either side of Lizzie’s head and plunged, into her. He buried his head into her hair and groaned.
Lizzie screamed in surprise at the deep and sudden penetration. She became accustomed to him very quickly and wrapped her legs around his hips and slid her hands around his back.
Rupert began moving, slowly at first and she moaned in time with his thrusts. She had never felt such feelings before. How could this one man turn her into such a wanton creature, who revelled in every move and thrust of his body?
“Rupert, I’m going to...” She groaned into his ear, her back arching so that her pebbled nipples brushed his chest. She didn’t know what was happening to her, but she was about to fall into that sea of rippling flesh and pleasure.
Rupert thrust harder.
“Come for me, Lizzie, now,” he groaned.
Her body quivered and shook and then she cried out, spasming around him. He pulled out of her once again and came on her belly, warmth squirting between them.
Lizzie gripped his sweaty back, holding him down, keeping him with her, terrified he would leave.
Rupert collapsed onto his side, breathing heavily. He reached across to the wash stand, pulled close to the bed. He rang out the wet, warm cloth and carefully cleaned Lizzie’s soft belly. She watched him from beneath half-closed eyes and waited for him to finish.
Sleep pulled Lizzie under its dark cloak, and she wrestled to stay awake a moment longer. She curled onto her side in her sleeping position and bumped her bottom against Rupert’s side. He stilled for a few moments, neither moving away from her nor getting any closer.
Then the heat emanating from his huge body wrapped around her and dreams from Heaven came down to greet her.
Chapter 11.
Whilst still half asleep, Rupert was warm and comfortable, dreaming about a minx wiggling on his lap. As the last of the darkness wore off and he blinked his eyes fully awake, the minx in his lap was real. The soft weight of her breast filled his palm and her delicious bottom was pressed against his morning erection.
How was he still in Lizzie’s bed? He never stayed the night. His valet would wonder where he was. Shaking his head to dislodge that strange thought, he kissed Lizzie’s shoulder in greeting and went to get out of her warm and comfortable bed.
Lizzie gripped his hand ti
ghter against her and whispered “stay,” deliberately butting her bottom up against his aroused member.
The urge to crawl back on top of her was strong but there was an even more overwhelming urge to run. Panic set its spurs in hardest, a hollow darkness filling a huge pit in his stomach.
“I have to go,” he said, louder than he should have, in her ear.
Lizzie let go of his hand, quickly this time, and allowed him to slide out of bed uninterrupted. He dressed quickly, tucking his annoyingly aroused member into his drawers and breeches.
“What’s wrong, Rupert?” Lizzie asked quietly, sitting up in bed and pulling the sheet up to cover her breasts.
“Nothing at all,” Rupert lied, unable to look at her.
He moved over to the mirror and quickly tied his cravat and waistcoat. He had done this a hundred times before. Why were his hands shaking?
“Rupert, why don’t you climb back into bed? It is still early.” Lizzie tried once more.
Rupert had the strangest urge to laugh. If he was really honest with himself, he wanted nothing more than to turn around and climb back into her bed. And to stay there. Perhaps forever?
Why did she have to do this to him! He had been perfectly happy living his life. Well, perhaps he had been getting a little bored with it, but even so. Why did she have to come along and confuse him when he wasn’t yet ready? He wasn’t even thirty yet. He had thought that he had more time!
So as he always did when he was uncomfortable, he lost his temper.
“Lizzie please stop the nagging at me. You aren’t my wife. We had a wonderful time last night, but I really do need to get back to my own house. We’ll meet again soon,” he assured her, hoping that none of the turbulent emotions he was feeling were showing on her face.
She nodded, her eyes wide and shiny.
“I’m sure you know the way out,” she said. Her voice wobbled but her hands were clenching the sheets as if to strangle the life out of them.
Rupert felt her pain and shame as though it were his own. It choked him, closing off his airways and taking all the breath from his lungs. He spent one more moment looking into her pain drenched brown eyes, just to torture himself, grabbed his coat and walked out.
****
Two weeks later Rupert walked into his boxing club where he saw his friend and fellow ‘Spare’, Lord John Dunford, working with one of the men there. John and he had bonded over their enjoyment of the sport, the physicality, the sweat. It was a very ungentlemanly sport according to certain members of the ton, but that didn’t stop them. The strength and defined muscles derived from training were an aspect they both enjoyed.
John was very graceful, controlled. He danced as he fought, a beautiful thing to watch. John reminded him of Archie sometimes, despite their other differences. The bell rang and John stopped. Shook hands with his opponent and walked out of the boxing area.
“Rupert,” he huffed, a smile pulling up his lips.
“John,” Rupert greeted the only other unmarried man in his circle of close friends. Oliver and Archie now had an extra bond between them because their wives were close friends. To Rupert, it seemed that he and John had been left in open space. But they had each other still and that gave him comfort.
“Come have a port with me?” John suggested, pulling his jacket on. The boxing club had a small drinking area for its members to relax after a game and to get to know each other.
Rupert hesitated. He really needed to hit something. Then again, port was like water to him. He could box after they had a drink.
“I haven’t seen you for a few weeks,” John said casually, taking a long swig of the best port the club had, which wasn’t anywhere near the standard Rupert and John usually drank.
Grimacing at the burn and the cheap flavour, Rupert answered with a shrug. “Just been busy.”
“New mistress?” John asked, with a lop sided smile and a wiggle of his eyebrows.
Rupert frowned. He wished that was the reason he had been off the circuit.
“I have been visiting a new lady recently, but I don’t think it’ll be a permanent thing.”
He was dying to confide in someone about his confusion, get some advice on the subject. But he couldn’t talk to John about Lizzie, he really couldn’t. John was worse than he was about women.
“No loss, I’m sure. There’s always another one waiting to fill the position, isn’t there?” John laughed out loud at his own joke.
Rupert smiled, John was right about that. There were always other women waiting. He’d been inundated with calling cards and letters this past sennight.
The problem was, he wasn’t sure anymore if women were interchangeable.
“Always,” Rupert leered, trying to deflect the attention off himself.
John laughed again.
“You?” Rupert asked.
John smiled, the light not reaching his eyes.
“I’m currently moving my latest out and the new one goes in next week.” He spoke as though he were interchanging horses.
“Six months up?” Rupert joked, knowing that John had a rule that no mistress lasted longer than six months. It must have cost him a fortune to pay them off, but then again, John had money. They all did.
“Not even. Four.” John grinned, shaking his head.
“What was wrong with her? Or do I not want to know.” Rupert let the feeling of relaxation wash over him. It felt good talking to John like this. It made him feel so much younger, carefree.
“The stupid wench started talking about the long term, babies and such,” John huffed in disgust and smacked his palm down onto the table.
Oh no! She’d broken John’s ultimate rule. No future, no responsibility, no cage and definitely NO babies.
“No loss then?”
“None,” John agreed, shaking his head in apparent disgust.
There was a lengthy silence and Rupert swallowed, the feelings of loneliness that had been plaguing him for months now, swimming up to the surface.
“Oliver and Archie look happy, don’t they?” Rupert said quietly.
John looked up in alarm. “We’re not going to talk about them are we?”
“Why ever not?” Rupert asked, surprised by the horrified look on John’s face. The four of them had been friends since they were thirteen years old.
“Because they’re married now. They’ve changed.”
Rupert took a sip of his port and watched John through slitted eyes, not sure how to answer that. They had changed, it was true, but Rupert thought it was for the better.
“So if I got married you wouldn’t want to see me?” Rupert asked as though it were all a joke.
“It’s not that, they’re just so God damned happy, I’m sick of it. If you got married, you wouldn’t be like that. You wouldn’t turn into them.” John scoffed and raised his glass of port. The implication made Rupert feel sick.
Was that really how John saw him? As a man incapable of loving his wife, of being faithful to her? Rupert had always believed it to be so, maybe they were both right.
“Did you see the new figures on the ‘Change this morning?” Rupert asked, referring to the stock exchange and thereby shifting the conversation to another subject. He was utterly tired of feeling inadequate.
Chapter 12.
It had been three weeks since Lizzie had last seen Rupert and she was at her wits’ end.
Two weeks earlier, at a moment when she had been both devastated by Rupert’s rejection, and angry at him for his bad behaviour, she had met Viscount Courtney, a minor nobleman, at a small, private ball. He had soon shown interest in her and not knowing where she stood with Rupert, she had happily received the attentions of this new and eligible gentleman.
Viscount Courtney was a nice looking gentleman. He had cropped brown hair and brown eyes. He was taller than Lizzie, but was no imposing figure. He liked to read and manage his profitable estate, having come to town specifically to find a wife. A wife who wanted to move to the country and who wante
d to continue his family’s tradition of having at least six children. Or so he said.
She went for two private walks and a ride with the Viscount. He had also called on her at home several times and had danced with her at many balls. He was pleasant and quiet. Respectable and subdued. Everything her late husband had not been.
He seemed perfect, exactly what she’d originally come to town to find. The Viscount didn’t need a dowry and was happy to court her, an older widow, rather than the eighteen-year-old debutantes.
Whilst on a walk the day before he had proposed a marriage between them based on mutual interests and respect. However, instead of accepting with alacrity as he had apparently expected, her stomach had lurched so painfully she had been afraid she would vomit on his shoes. Although, she had not given him an answer yet, she had promised to give him one in the next few days.
Lizzie was so confused, about everything. Was she wrong to hope for more now than a marriage of convenience? She couldn’t stay in this limbo state any longer and knew she had to either convince Rupert to marry her, or put him aside forever.
It had been three weeks since Lizzie had seen Rupert and she needed to know where they stood. Rupert hadn’t contacted her, but he also hadn’t been at any of the balls, luncheons or dinners she had attended. He had simply disappeared and Lizzie was too proud to ask Charlotte or any of her other connections if they knew where he was.
Lizzie had missed him dreadfully and if she was going to make her life with someone else, then she needed to close the door on Rupert first. Everything to do with him was unfinished and her heart had a great big gaping hole in it. It was a horrible feeling and not one she had ever expected to feel.
She had accidently learnt from Charlotte that morning that Rupert would be attending a soirée that she, Lizzie, was also planning to attend that evening. She would find out what was happening with the Honourable Rupert Willoughby, or make a scene trying.