Chapter 9
I dine early in the evening, hoping to avoid meeting Lord Guy; I simply do not know what I would say to him. Today’s behaviour was an aberration and it must not happen again. My problem is that while my resolve is strong when not in his company, it crumbles when we are together; hence I am dining alone tonight.
Dinner is miserable. I am wracked with guilt and shame, combined with the constant stares from other diners as I eat alone. This all serves to make the food must unappetizing. Couple that with my nervousness whenever anyone enters the dining room as I dread it to be Lord Guy; I am pleased when I finally finish and can return back to my room.
As I approached my chambers, I pass by the corridor on which Lord Guy’s room is situated. I had seen the valet take his baggage that way, when we first arrived. His rooms are at the far end and his door out of sight, as it is recessed from the rest of the corridor. Despite my intention not to make any contact with him, I have a sudden urge to call upon him. I wanted to try and explain that what had happened today must never happen again. It is foolish of me, I know, and I admonish myself for the thought, before I realize that I’m stood right outside his door. Strange, as I have no recollection of having walked down the corridor. My mind is in such turmoil, and a loud rapping sound brings me to my senses. Then I realize the noise I can hear is me knocking on his door.
I stare, aghast, at the door, dreading it opening. What am I thinking? The scandal would ruin me. An unaccompanied female visiting a man in his rooms is unheard of. Despite this, I feel a little disappointment when he does not answer. I’m partially relieved to have escaped the consequences of my foolishness, when a sudden voice behind me makes me jump.
“What brings a beautiful young woman to my door, I wonder?”
I spin around quickly, only to see Lord Guy stood there. I had not heard him approach at all, and now he is so close that we are almost touching.
“I….I…” I cannot make any coherent words exit my mouth, as I stand there in shock.
He stares at me, and just for a moment I think I see a glint of amusement in his eye, but it is soon gone.
“Are you aware that it is very ungentlemanly to sneak up on a woman like that?” I tell him, trying to appear stern, yet inside I am quivering.
“And, what is it that makes you think I am a gentleman, Rosalind?”
Again, I am speechless and lost for words. Is he mocking me? It certainly seems that way. I attempt to push past him and leave, but he stands his ground firmly. I am trapped in the doorway to his room.
“Leaving so soon?” he whispers as he moves in on me. “And, without getting what you came for?”
Again, I hear a mocking tone in his voice. I should slap his face and leave instantly, but for some reason I am glued to the spot. Even worse, he has started a fire within me, and I am unable to control it. I feel as if I am observing as an outsider as everything seems to move in slow motion. His face moves closer to mine. His lips are almost touching mine. I can smell his warm breath, a light odor of strong liquor, but it isn’t unpleasant. It only serves to increase the passion burning inside of me.
“Please, Lord Guy,” I manage to blurt out.
“You don’t have to say please, my darling,” he remarks, before firmly pressing his lips to mine.
His kiss is hot and passionate and I lose complete control. Even out here in the hallway, where we could be discovered in our passionate embrace, does not seem to deter me. I think it only serves to spur me on. The illicitness of our situation causes me such a rush of excitement, that I kiss him back as passionately as he is kissing me. I don’t object when his tongue probes my mouth, instead I welcome it. The intimacy increases my own hot desires, as our tongues entwine together in a passionate dance. I can feel him fumbling behind me, and just for a moment I am horrified that he is unfastening my gown, out here in the hallway. Yet, cleverly, he is opening the door, and he guides me backwards into his room. Quickly, he closes it behind us. At no time do his lips leave mine. There is no escape for me now; he has masterfully maneuvered me into this position. Even now, I do not care; deep down this is what I want. I may very well regret it later, but for now I want him as much as he wants me.
I feel him fumbling at the back of my gown, his fingers deftly unfastening the buttons that hold it together, before he slips it off my shoulders. It falls in a heap at my feet. I have dressed lightly tonight, expecting to retire for the evening after dinner. I wear only a light petticoat underneath. In no time, he is unfastening the lace of my under garment, and it soon joins the dress at my feet.
Now I am completely naked in front of him. He pulls away from our kiss and his eyes greedily take in my nakedness. I quickly pull my arms across my breasts and place my hand between my legs, doing my best to hide my modesty.
“Why hide such a beautiful treasure?” he says, his voice straining with lust. I can feel my face redden up again, as I feel so very vulnerable.
“Lay your hands by your side, and let me see you as nature intended, Rosalind,” his voice is firm and insistent, almost a command.
“Please Guy,” I almost beg, but he says nothing, he just stares at me.
“I’m waiting,” he says, willing me to move my arms by my side.
Despite my embarrassment, I do as he asks. I overcome my prudishness, wanting him to see me, to see my most intimate of places. I move my hand by my side, as requested, and stand there in front of him, displaying everything to his greedy stare. I hear a sharp intake of breath as he looks at me, and it increases my own passion tenfold. He likes my body. I can feel a heat between my legs, a moistness in my nether regions, from my brazen behaviour. Still, I cannot not look him in the eye as I stand there, exposing everything to him.
Without warning, he effortlessly sweeps me up in his strong arms, and carries me across the room, laying me gently on the large bed. He steps back, and starts to remove his own clothes. I watch as layer after of layer of clothing is removed, revealing his firm body. As he discards his shirt, I marvel at his sculptured muscles on his chest and arms. I stare, unable to take my eyes away, as he removes his breaches, releasing his manhood. It stands stiff and proud from his body.
Soon his nakedness is pressed next to mine. His firm body lies beside me on the bed. His lips on my neck kissing nibble at my bare skin. Slowly he moves them down, traveling over the mounds of my breasts, while hesitating momentarily, as his lips hover above my stiff sensitive buds. The passion burns through me. It is absolute. I arch my back, pushing my breasts into his face and encouraging him to ease the burning on my nipples. As I moan in ecstasy, he engulfs the sensitive nubs between his lips. He moves his hand down over my stomach, down towards my pubis. Fingers trail in the wispy hair, before slipping between my legs and probing my wetness. Letting out a long, low moan I cannot control myself as his fingers slip past my labia, and into my welcoming opening. He embeds his fingers into me, and the heel of his hand presses against my sensitive love nub. This causes me to buck my hips up and down, upon his intruding fingers.
“You are a frisky little lady, aren’t you, my sweet?” he whispers into my ear, his breath hot and urgent.
I should feel shame at his words, but they simply spur me on as I buck up and down, under his expert ministrations. Suddenly, his fingers are gone and I groan in my disappointment, my back still arched and legs obscenely parted.
“Don’t you worry, my darling, I have something even better for you.”
Again, I feel as though he is mocking me, but all that is soon forgotten as he maneuvers himself quickly between my legs. His erection presses insistently at my labia. I felt the tip of his erection head parting my labia lips, and my eyes roll back in rapture. With a sudden thrust, he penetrates me completely, causing me to gasp in surprise as his thickness pushes deep inside of me. I stretch my arms above my head, gripping the bed post, pushing my breasts up to his face, and he obliges by quickly dipping his head and suckling on one of my nipples.
He pounds me, relentle
ssly, in and out. His fast rhythm sends me on a wave of ecstasy. Grabbing me by the waist, he pulled me towards him with my legs pulled up, and wrapped around him. This allows him to go as deep as he wishes. With his hands now free, he reaches forward and rolls my nipples between his fingers, pulling on them and stretching them to their limit. The pain is exquisite and sends waves of pleasure right from the tips of my breast, and down into my cunny. I have never felt this way before, this man is doing things to me that a true lady should not experience, but I simply do not care. I did not feel like a lady, but I do feel like a woman, one hundred percent pure female. It is shameful, improper and scandalous, but I do not care. I love what Lord Guy is doing to me, and I never wanted him to stop.
Grabbing at his back, my finger nails gouge into the skin. He is a perfect example of a man, a beast, an animal. He is in a fury right now. His movements pounding faster, as he almost loses the rhythm. I know he is building to the point of no return, but I am also at that same place, too.
I feel something stir, something deep inside of me that I have never felt before. It is a buildup of pressure, and it reaches a point where I think I might explode. Suddenly, Lord Guy grabs my shoulders and pulls me down as his hips push up. He is deep now, with no room to get any deeper inside of me. His swelling erection feels like he might split in two. The feeling that has been building up, suddenly bursts and a wild current floods through me as I climax. He covers my mouth with his firm hand, quieting my screams, as we time our orgasm to perfection. We ride the wave together, oblivious to anything, as if no one else existed in the world but the two of us, and our lustful depravity.
We lay there together, for a while, saying nothing. Before long I hear his rhythmic breathing, which tells me he is asleep. Quickly, I dress and sneak out of his room, like a thief in the night.
Chapter 10
The next day I avoid Lord Guy, confining myself to my room. I need to think through exactly what happened last night, and how it might change things. I cannot face Lady Harriet, and fortunately she hasn’t called for me. I know deep inside that what I had done was wrong, and against everything I have been brought up to believe. It is my love for Lord Guy that is all consuming. It will have to end eventually; after all he is betrothed to another. Yet, in the back of my mind I dare to hope that he may choose to marry me instead.
As much as I yearn to see him once again, I decide to dine early in the hope of avoiding him. To my dismay, he is already in the dining room, and he summons me over to his table. We hardly speak to each other, as we eat our meal, but I do catch him glancing at me when I also sneak a look at him. We give each other the occasional knowing smile, but we both seem somewhat talented actors, and we behave as if nothing has happened.
After dinner, I attend to Lady Harriet, as I always do. Strangely, I feel no guilt, too enraptured in my own happiness. Somehow, I manage to cut the connection out of my own mind, that I have just made love with her fiancé. Whilst I have just made love with a wonderful man, my mind plays tricks on me, disguising my real behaviour. I am pleased to see that she is slightly improved, and I spoon feed her with a light broth. The room is ablaze with the heat of a coal fire, and being from the coast, I find this stifling. All curtains are shut tight, to ensure there are no drafts. This, for me, leaves the air in the room, stale. I have been raised with fresh air as a cure for most illnesses. Automatically, I open a curtain and a window, just a tiny bit, to allow the air outside to bring us some clarity to our stuffy heads.
“Miss Blackwood, I will freeze if you allow that draft into my room,” Lady Harriet complains.
I did not have the patience to explain to this spoiled child, how she would feel much better with fresh air circulating within her sick room. So I simply closed the window and the curtain.
“I thought you may like to feel the outdoors, Lady Harriet. I know you must be longing to join the dances?” I say, more as a statement rather than a question. It is general knowledge that young ladies of Lady Harriet’s age, long to join in social occasions.
Even I was one for social gatherings at her age, and joined in the gossip that invariably happens at such occasions. Though as I grew older, I began to realize that most of the chatter of females is malicious, always targeting some poor soul to undermine them. I’m glad to say that I soon grew out of that.
“Have you seen Lord Guy, today?” she asks, sitting up and leaning on her pillows.
“Indeed,” I answer with ease, for the Lord Guy in her head and the one in mine are two different characters. “I have just been giving him an update on your recovery, over dinner, in the public dining room,” I inform her.
“Does he look terribly lonely?” she asks, with the pining of young lady.
“He looked very well, Lady Harriet. I imagine he is availing himself of the numerous card games that seem to be ongoing, while he awaits your recovery. Once I inform him that you are improved, he will be visiting you, I am sure.”
Though I want Guy for myself, as much as possible, I am well aware that normality cannot be altered. The fact that my lover is about to marry does not yet register in my silly head. Do not ask me how this can be; it is just a state of someone in a romantic dream world, which, at this time, is me.
Later that evening, I leave Lady Harriet’s room and return to my own, only to find a naked Guy in my bed. As soon as I enter my own room, I am no longer a governess, but a woman in love. We make passionate love and he stays in my bed all evening.
The next morning we dare to breakfast together, in the public dining area. Normally, I would simply have a tray sent up, but to been seen with Guy in public, even though it is a facade, is a giddy notion. Of course, we share no personal contact in public, but occasionally our eyes will meet and that is enough to carry me through.
After breakfast, he comes with me to visit his fiancé, and she was overjoyed to see him. As soon as we set foot through her bedroom door, I switch my mind into being a governess, and all is well. I am still in love with a man, but it was not this Lord Guy before me. No, somehow my mind has managed to separate my Guy, who comes to me at every possible chance, from the one who is to marry Lady Harriet.
Chapter 11
I am waking up with a happy heart, but unfortunately, my heart is ruling my head and I am given no intelligent thoughts as to what I am doing. Performing my usual morning duties, with a tune on my lips, I enter the room of my charge, Lady Harriet.
“I would like to dress today, and hopefully take a walk with Guy,” she instructs me as I whip open her curtains to allow the sun to shine through her window. “Is he available today, do you know Miss Blackwood?”
“I’m afraid I have no idea of Lord Guy’s plans today.” I say without giving it much thought. “I do not usually speak with him until the luncheon period. Though I think he will be pleased to see you up and about, Lady Harriet.”
I request the manager of the hotel to arrange for a bath, for Lady Harriet. I am not employed to be her personal maid. Helping her to dress and arrange her hair are not tasks I know how to do for another, anyway. When we first arrived, we simply took on the employ of a young maid within the hotel. Between us, we soon had her looking the part of a rich young lady.
Walking with her to where I would normally see Lord Guy, I was somewhat surprised to find he was not there. When I ask at hotel reception, I am informed that he has gone out for the day, and they were not expecting his return until the evening. This was disappointing news for my charge and for me too. I am most aggrieved at the thought of not seeing him all day. I suppose you could say this is the start of my mind finally seeing some sense to the whole situation, although it does not have an immediate effect. It is to be some days before I come to realize the truth of my precarious situation.
It is my task to see that Lady Harriet is entertained, so I suggest a walk in Sydney Gardens, of which she heartily agrees to. I do like to walk in the open air, but I am not one to stop and chatter. However, we are not on this walk for my benefit, and I will ha
ve to grin and bear my task this day. It seems that Lady Harriet is recognized by far too many young men, of the gentry. Considering she has only just got herself out of her sick bed this very morning, she seems abound with energy. She smiles and makes small talk countless times. Luckily, no one mentions the wedding, though many a young man make dough eyes at her, attempting to charm and flatter her with their constant compliments.
For Lady Harriet, I am nonexistent, merely a forced presence required by etiquette. For the first time I observe her with others, and I decide that she is a silly, spoilt girl who really does need to grow up and mature. In my opinion, she is not ready for marriage, but, of course, it is not my place to state the obvious. And, of course, my opinion may be swayed by my own personal involvement with her intended. I do believe that marriage will come as a shock to her, once she realizes that she can no longer behave like the spoilt, attention seeking madam that she is. It will shake her entire perception of life, and I hope she adapts quickly, or she will be totally miserable.
Perhaps I am just allowing my own jealousy to come to the fore. Yes, that must be it. Surely she cannot be all that bad? I think I have come to the conclusion that I do not like being a companion. I neither have the patience or the character to be a person who can provide personal support. I do know my status in life, and it is my ambition to share my education, and not be a nursemaid to anyone.
ROMANCE: CLEAN ROMANCE: Summer Splash! (Sweet Inspirational Contemporary Romance) (New Adult Clean Fantasy Short Stories) Page 46