by Cindy Lee
“Yes, yes, it feels so good,” she cried as the intense waves of sexual arousal crashed over her and swiftly brought her a sultry, breathless release.
After David’s initial hesitation upon realizing Vivian was a virgin, he quickly resumed his stride to match her own frenzied pace. He placed his hands around her firm bottom and gently squeezed the silky skin of her buns. When she began propelling herself against him and he felt the walls of her tight canal squeeze around his enlarged cock, the intense pleasure he experienced at the moment of Vivian’s release caused him to lose his fragile control and ejaculate into the casing.
They lay limply across the pillow, their arms wrapped around each other, silently acknowledging what they had just experienced. The reasons that they were able to reach this pinnacle may have been timing, method, fantasy, passion or imagination but the conclusion was the same for both of them—the sex had been very hot and very incredible.
At that instant, a loud explosion sounded in the gardens. The leaves on the surrounding trees, which had been nothing more than dark shadows just moments before, glowed for an instant as light briefly flickered across the night sky. David looked around in sudden confusion. He felt Vivian’s hand upon his arm. “The fireworks have begun. I must leave the gardens.”
A bright explosion lit the sky once more. David heard several appreciative murmurs from the surrounding shrubbery. One especially vocal female cried out from somewhere behind the stand of elm trees, “Cor! Wasn’t that a beauty, sweetie?”
He turned to his companion. He braced his arms against the ground and held himself still as she slowly withdrew his cock from her vagina. “Here, allow me to assist you, my dear.” David took the handkerchief she had pulled out of the pocket on her gown and gently wiped her crotch. A small amount of blood appeared on the fabric. “Are you sore, Vivian?”
“It is nothing of any great concern, my lord, a slight twinge of discomfort. I am certain it will not affect me for long,” she said, blithely brushing aside his worry. She retrieved the soiled cloth and then stood up to shake out her skirt and to pull on her gloves. Then she stowed the pillow away in its hiding place.
David came to his feet, removed the casing from his penis and wrapped it in his handkerchief. He refastened his linen shirt and hastily tied his cravat in a simple version of the style his valet had taken such pains over earlier that evening. He shrugged on his waistcoat and then reached for his coat and gloves. “Why must you leave, Vivian?”
She clutched his hand and led him forward in the direction of the pathway before answering his query. “It is yet another aspect of my Vixen character, my lord. Once I have performed my services, I have decided it is advisable to not tarry longer than is necessary in the gardens.”
David stared down at the crown of Vivian’s covered head. The idea of her traversing the city of London on her own at this time of night brought an unexpected tightening sensation, which David took to be concern, in the pit of his stomach. “You must allow me to escort you back to Madam Page’s establishment, my dear,” he declared gravely.
“There is no need for your distress, my lord,” she answered and gently squeezed his hand. They reached the end of the South Walk and began to make their way past the Grove toward the entrance to the gardens. “I have worked out an agreement with Jane’s brother, Clifford. He has agreed to meet me just outside the western wall tonight and subsequent nights when I have customers, shortly after the fireworks begin. He will then accompany me back to my lodgings.”
David was about to argue the benefits of having himself as an escort when he became aware of someone addressing him. “It appears you were able to avail yourself of the Vixen’s services after all, David,” drawled the now thoroughly disguised Lord Olton.
David hastily requested Vivian to wait for him on the dim pathway while he spoke briefly with Lord Olton.
“What is the problem, old man?” Lord Olton sputtered drunkenly as he observed David walk toward him in a purposeful manner.
“Just this, Olton. I will thank you to allow me to make my own arrangements for pleasure and diversion in the future.”
Dexter dropped his hand from Sally’s exposed breast as he struggled to get out of his chair. “It appears you have no complaints about your companion at present, Maxton,” he drawled.
“I will not attempt to make myself clear to you while you are corned, pickled and salted, Dexter. Let me just say that Paula has been escorted back to her residence by her concerned brother. Your conscience need not bother you further over her safety,” David ended with a note of contempt in his voice.
Lord Olton leaned back drunkenly against one wall of the supper box and made no reply to David’s statement.
David turned back toward Vivian and lifted her gloved hand to his sleeve. “Come, my dear. I will escort you to the entrance.”
Vivian shifted her stance and lowered her chin to briefly make contact with David’s reassuringly firm chest. Then she raised her head, faced forward and began to retrace her steps to the Grand Walk. She gently squeezed David’s muscular forearm. “As you will, my lord. You must allow me to express my gratitude to you once again for your concern for Paula.”
“I cannot be certain how powerful my message was as yet, my dear. It has suddenly become apparent to me, during the course of the evening’s events, that the gentlemen whom I once called my friends are remarkably unconcerned about anyone but themselves.” David paused as they reached the entrance to the gardens. A burly young man stepped out into the walkway just as a succession of lights flashed brightly above the treetops, signaling the completion of the firework display for the evening.
Chapter Three
Vivian dropped David’s arm and rushed forward to come to a halt in front of the man.
“I was becomin’ worried, Miss Cassell,” the somewhat breathless youth managed to utter as he studied David standing quietly behind Vivian. “Have you been hurt?”
“No, no, Clifford, my escort had some business to clear up with an acquaintance. I waited to exit the gardens until he was finished. Lord Maxton, this is Clifford Boots, footman for the Duke of Middlecrest. Clifford, this is my escort, Viscount Maxton.”
David briefly acknowledged Mr. Boots and then swiftly turned back to his veiled companion. “The same Duke who paid for your services this evening?”
Vivian’s veil twitched slightly as she nodded her head. “Yes, my lord, the same gentleman.” She turned back toward Clifford. “I trust the Duke arrived home safely this evening?”
“Yes, Miss Cassell, we carried him up to his rooms. His valet, Mr. Gordon, had him safely tucked in his bed when I left to meet you.” Clifford was silent. He stared deliberately at David for several moments before speaking softly to Vivian once more. “If Lord Maxton had business with another, how is it he comes to be escorting you, Miss Cassell?”
Clifford’s lowered voice carried across the still night air. David was able to discern his words. However, before he could comment, Vivian had spoken, “No, no, Clifford. You mistake the matter. His business was with a gentleman. It was more in the way of words of advice.”
“Yes, Mr. Boots, my task at hand has been completed in the best possible manner given the gentleman’s current state of sensibility. And you, my young man, may return to your post directly.” David glanced over at Vivian and lightly covered her hand with his own as she attempted to step away from him. “Miss Cassell has recently expressed her gratitude for my sympathetic treatment of a female acquaintance of hers this evening. I would like to collect on the debt owed by obtaining her consent to my escort. I will see her safely back to her lodgings. My coach and driver are awaiting me near the landing on the opposite bank of the Thames.”
Although a viscount’s wishes were not to be questioned, Clifford hesitated to leave without first speaking with his friend. “Miss Cassell, do you wish me to return to my post?”
It is so easy to agree to spend more time with him, Vivian thought. I must be very careful to guard m
y heart and remember this is about providing sex for payment and nothing more. After several seconds, David heard her softly exhale and then clear her throat. “Yes, Clifford, I will be perfectly safe with Lord Maxton.”
Minutes later, David and his companion had alighted from the small boat that had carried them across the Thames. They silently navigated the path up the sloping hill from the dock to arrive at the viscount’s waiting coach.
David opened the door and assisted Vivian as she entered the vehicle. She sat down and leaned her head back against the seat. She exhaled slowly and a rush of air escaped from her lips as she listened, with a quickening heartbeat to the deep rumble of her companion’s voice as he instructed his coachman on how best to reach Madam Page’s establishment. She stared, unseeing, through the filmy material of her veil, at the roof of the coach.
She willed herself to take several deep breaths in an attempt to calm her racing pulse. There was a nervous ache in the pit of her stomach as she thought about the viscount. Certainly no man had affected her in this manner before. Just minutes before, she had vowed to remember that this association was simply about sex. But she had dreamed of a romantic relationship for so long! Could this be her chance to sample a taste of what she had craved for so many years?
There was no denying that Lord Maxton was a very handsome gentleman. He was a few inches taller than her own substantial height. This created a situation that was unique for her. It left her with a welcome, protected feeling when she looked across to find her companion was actually taller than herself. He was also lean and muscular, she conceded, as Vivian pictured the hard planes of his chest when she had caressed him just before wrapping her palm around his hard penis.
Nothing was lacking in that sphere either, acknowledged Vivian as she remembered admiring the display when she opened his drawers. His expertise at making a woman such as herself feel treasured was also admirable. Vivian’s heart ached with desire as she thought about their frenzied coupling in the garden. Lord Maxton had made her first experience something she longed to repeat with him. And the sooner they did it the better as far as she was concerned. Her self-imposed obligations with Lord Maxton this evening had assuredly become much more of a pleasure than a duty.
From what she could discern in the muted light in the garden, the viscount’s facial features could aptly be described as classic—high cheekbones, firm chin, tapered eyebrows, thick, dark hair pulled back from his broad forehead and tied with a leather strap. She had noticed one wayward lock of hair that had the propensity to curl down across one brow. Vivian had found herself wishing she could reach out to touch the smooth lock many times over during the evening.
Recollections of all that had transpired between them that night pervaded her thoughts. The viscount had, up to this point, treated her with nothing but respect. She had enjoyed their brief conversations and certainly felt no regret for divulging her personal story to him. The connection between them brought about by his mysterious dream could not be disputed. But he was a peer of the realm, under no obligation to provide a woman such as herself with more than a passing notice. Yet since they had been introduced he had treated her with esteem and care that Vivian would expect to have been afforded only to women of his own class. She was truly grateful for his graciousness and amiability in their brief association.
The coach shifted slightly as Lord Maxton entered the vehicle. He took a seat next to Vivian, his muscular thigh resting warmly against her own. The coachman called out to the horses and the vehicle rocked forward.
Vivian felt her companion adjust his position in the seat next to her. She became aware of a swishing noise and then a plopping sound that Vivian assumed to be Lord Maxton’s gloves hitting the floor. Her surmise proved to be correct when she discerned the light touch of his hand as it moved across her lap until it came to rest at the cleft between her thighs. His other hand moved to gently squeeze her shoulder. His deep voice caressed her ear as he spoke, “My cock is throbbing with need. I want to make you wet for me again, my Vixen.
Vivian’s already frantic pulse raced faster as she heard Lord Maxton’s request. Her heart pounded in an irregular rhythm in her ears. Her palms were sweating and the spot was becoming heated where his hand rested upon her legs.
Vivian shifted in her seat slightly until she was facing her companion. “Do what you will, my lord,” she whispered her reply to him. “I crave your touch with a hunger that is almost past reasoning.”
David made no answer but placed both of his hands on the front edge of her gown and carefully lifted the material up to expose her naked mound. After securing the quantity of fabric in her lap, he slowly fluttered his fingers up the soft skin on the crease between her exposed thighs to come to rest upon the soft curls of her cunt. Vivian dimly registered the sounds of the horses’ hooves striking the ground as they made their way through the busy London streets. A moment later, Lord Maxton’s warm hand began massaging her swollen bud.
His fingers moved over the sensitive skin in a gentle caress back and forth until she felt herself stiffen with desire and her cunt begin to throb with yearning for sexual release.
Suddenly the viscount’s coachman called an order and the coach rolled to a stop. Lord Maxton pulled away from Vivian, murmuring an oath. “Unfortunately, my dear, it appears that we have reached our destination. Had I known you would be so hot for me so soon after our sojourn in the garden, I would have ordered my coachman to drive aimlessly around the neighborhood for some time before reaching your lodgings.”
Vivian did not answer. Her head was still spinning from the pleasurable effects of her companion’s caressing fingers upon her nub. As she slowly moved her hands across her lap in a feeble attempt to straighten her gown, Vivian became embarrassingly aware of a pool of moisture that had collected between her legs. Lord Maxton assisted her in lowering her gown to adequately cover her limbs. She marveled anew at her body’s heady and instantaneous reaction to the viscount’s touch.
Lord Maxton retrieved his gloves from the floor and exited the coach, then turned to assist her as she made her way, somewhat unsteadily, down the vehicle’s steps. “Allow me to have a word with my driver, my dear,” the viscount advised her.
He joined Vivian moments later. “I instructed my coachman to take the horses back to my stables. I will walk home this evening and possibly stop by my club on the way.”
Vivian nodded but made no comment. She feared that her tone of voice would be anything but even if she were to attempt to speak at that moment. She turned to walk to a private entrance on the side of Madam Page’s establishment to be used by the ladies when returning home from evening appointments. Lord Maxton strolled by her side. Upon reaching the threshold, Vivian produced a key from her pocket and unlocked the door.
The door opened onto a small vestibule. The room was gloomy, dark and unwelcoming. Vivian briefly registered this fact as she acknowledged to herself that she was loath to part with her companion. She turned toward the viscount.
“The light is equally close and shadowy in this room, my lord. Would you care to continue the activities that you started inside your coach?” She gave him no opportunity to answer. Experiencing a type of desperate yearning in the pit of her stomach that she would ponder later in the privacy of her room, Vivian extended her gloved hand to grasp his arm and pull Lord Maxton inside. With a deft motion, she then reached out with one foot and kicked the door shut.
Vivian turned to her companion once again with the intention of explaining her rash actions. However, it seemed he needed no explanation. By the dim moonlight filtering through the curtains from a tiny window by the door, she watched as the viscount divested himself of his coat and gloves and tossed them onto an adjacent settee. Suddenly intent on not being left behind, Vivian also removed her gloves and then hastily reached up to the crown of her head to remove the pins that attached the veil to her hair. As the last pin was dislodged, she swiftly lifted the confining drape off her head and flung it and the other i
tems onto a nearby table.
“Come over here, my dear,” Lord Maxton murmured as he stepped forward, wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her against his lean body.
Vivian enthusiastically lifted her face to receive his kisses as she savored the feeling of his strong forearms wrapped around her body. What a wondrous sensation, she thought, to be held in such a manner. It was as if she were as fragile as a doll made of china but yet as something so significant to warrant the strength of this embrace.
“I want to pleasure you with my mouth, Vivian,” he whispered against her lips after several seconds of heightened bliss.
Vivian reluctantly pulled away and then struggled to make sense of the viscount’s words as the heady effects from his kisses slowly receded. “I am experiencing nothing but satisfaction, my lord. This is a wondrous diversion for me, I assure you.”
“I want to give you something better than a simple diversion, my dear. I want to provide you with something more exciting than the fireworks on display at Vauxhall this evening. In fact, I intend to spark your body with a fire that far surpasses any stimulation created by a firework exhibit!”
Vivian kept her hands wrapped around the viscount’s neck as he spoke. Her feelings of trust and care which she had sensed from her companion earlier in the evening surfaced once more. “I am in your very capable hands, my lord,” she answered as she quickly made her decision to follow his lead. “I am quite eager to experience even a small part of what you seem to be proposing!”
“I assure you, Vivian, I intend to provide you with nothing less than a grand portion of passion and desire. Stand over here against the wall, my dear.”
Vivian walked to the far side of the room and stood with her back against the wall. Lord Maxton stationed himself directly in front of her. She wasted no time as she quickly raised both hands to clasp them across the back of his neck. She eagerly lifted her face up to his to receive more of his delicious kisses. “Not quite so fast, my dear,” the viscount calmly reprimanded her and took a step backward. He bent over causing Vivian to release her hold upon his neck. Then he gathered the hem of her gown into his hands. She moved her palms slowly across his back in a gentle stroking motion for a few moments and then dropped them to hang limply at her sides.