Tempting a Proper Lady

by Debra Mullins

  She should back down, not play with a fire she didn’t know how to handle. But…“Perhaps.”

  He laughed, full and hearty. “Oh, sweetheart, this is going to be fun. Hurry.” He grabbed her hand and sprinted the last few feet of the hallway, dragging her behind him into the bedchamber.

  A large bed dominated the room. A looking glass stood in the corner to her left, and a simple bureau with a washbasin and pitcher caught her eye on the right side of the bed. She halted in the doorway, a glimmer of uncertainty piercing her arousal. But as usual, he seemed to know what was wrong even if she didn’t.

  “Honesty, right, Priscilla?”

  She tore her gaze from the bed to look at him. “Yes.”

  “You are certain you want to do this?”

  She hesitated only a beat. “Yes.”

  “Do you trust me to guide you?”

  “Yes.” No hesitation there.

  “All right. The first thing we need to do is to start getting you out of those clothes.”

  “Just me?” She laid a hand over her bosom as if to prevent him from ripping the garments from her.

  He grinned. “Your clothes take a lot longer, sweetheart. I promise, I won’t rush you or do anything you don’t like.”

  “All right.”

  “Turn around. I’ll play lady’s maid.”

  She slowly turned around and immediately felt him plucking at the long line of buttons down her back. She kept her arms crossed in front of her, uncertain what she should be doing. Then his lips brushed the back of her neck. Her eyes slid closed and a low moan escaped her lips as he continued to trail kisses down her spine with each button he unfastened. Her arms uncrossed to hang limply at her sides.

  “Your skin looks like fresh cream.” The top of her dress loosened, and she allowed him to tug it down her arms and off, leaving the top hanging at her waist. “Look at how beautiful you are.”

  She opened her eyes and realized she was facing the mirror in the corner. Her dress bunched at her hips, held suspended by her petticoat. Her shoulders, her arms, and a good part of her bosom were revealed by the simple white chemise and corset that she wore beneath her clothing. He loomed behind her—so much taller, so much bigger. He reached around and cupped her breast as she watched, his large, sun-browned hand nearly encompassing the soft globe.

  “Do you see what I see? Tempting, like a delicious cake in the bakery window.” He bent and kissed the side of her neck, gently fondling her breast through the incredibly thin cotton. “I see you like this, and I want to kiss you everywhere. I want to see more, touch all of you.”

  “Yes.” Was that her reflection, that sultry-looking woman with her eyes half closed and a blush on her cheeks?

  He used one finger to tug one edge of her chemise down her arm. His expression fascinated her, like a man intent on a very important mission. He stopped just before baring her completely and traced his finger along the tops of her breasts. “So soft. I want to take my time. Or at least as much time as I can stand.”

  “If it is painful for you, we can—”

  “No, not painful,” he interrupted. “Not yet.” He met her gaze in the mirror. “I want you ready for me, Priscilla. So ready that when I slide inside you, it will be maddening for both of us.”

  She clasped her hand over his. “I want to please you. Please tell me what to do.”

  “Bare yourself for me.” He removed his hand from her breast. “I want to watch you uncover your beauty for me.”

  She tried to hold his gaze in the mirror, but when she reached for the top of her chemise, she couldn’t help but drop her eyes in modesty. Without unfastening her corset, she tugged the front of the chemise down as much as she could so her breasts were completely exposed to him.

  “That is true beauty.” He cupped both of her breasts in his hands, rubbing the nipples with his thumbs. “Look at yourself, Priscilla. You are so beautiful.”

  She glanced at the mirror. The intensity in the way he looked at her made her entire body come to attention. Her skin felt that much more sensitive. The scent of him—somewhere between soap and outdoors—made her heady. The sight of his dark hand on her pale flesh excited her more than she had ever dreamed. Wet heat bloomed between her legs.

  “This is what it should be like, always,” he murmured, nibbling along her shoulder as he continued to gently fondle her breasts. “This hunger growing inside you. Do you feel it? Does your mouth water for the taste of my kiss?”

  “Yes.” His words seduced as much as his hands.

  “Do you want my mouth here?” He pinched her nipples. The unique pleasure-pain had her gasping.

  “Yes. Please.”

  “And what about here?” He slid one hand down her waist, under the dangling top of her dress, to press between her legs. She leaned back against him, her knees losing all strength.

  “Yes.”

  “I want you naked, Priscilla.”

  “Yes.”

  “I want you to welcome me into your body.”

  “Yes.”

  “I want you to forget about everything you thought you knew about men and women.” He nibbled a trail along her neck, then met her gaze in the mirror. “Trust me to take care of you.”

  She nodded, nearly incapable of words.

  “Unfasten your corset. I will get this dress off you. I want to feel you against me, not twenty petticoats.”

  “I have only one.” Obediently she began to unclip the fastenings on the front of her corset.

  “Even one is too many.” The dress loosened around her hips, and he tugged it down. Her petticoat followed. “Step forward.”

  She obeyed, stepping out of her dress and petticoat as she managed to unclasp the last fastening of her corset. The stiff undergarment came off in her hands, leaving her clad only in chemise, drawers, and stockings.

  “I’ll take that.” He flung it away, then turned her around and brought her close for a hot, openmouthed kiss that sent her mind spinning. Her naked breasts rubbed against his cotton shirt, and even the soft material stimulated her sensitized flesh to a near unbearable peak. Now that the layers of clothing were all but gone, she could feel his hardness stiff against her stomach. Instead of being frightened, she pressed closer.

  He made a growling noise in his throat and clasped both hands on her bottom, grinding against her. She clung to his shoulders, uncertain yet willing to be led where he would take her.

  He ripped his mouth away. “I need you, Priscilla.”

  “Yes,” she replied, then gasped as he reached down and dragged her chemise over her head. The garment caught on her hair, but he tugged it loose. A pin went flying.

  The plink of it hitting the floor caught his attention. “Let down your hair. You refused me at the inn. Let me see it now.” He rested his forehead against hers, pulling her close against him. “Please, Priscilla.”

  She could not resist his plea. She reached up to pull the pins from her hair. The movement thrust her breasts forward, and he bent to take one nipple into his mouth. The damp scrape of his tongue against her tight nipple incited a little moan from her throat. Blindly she jerked at the hairpins, dropping them to the floor as quickly as she yanked them free. Her dark hair tumbled in long, curling hanks around her shoulders.

  He let her nipple slide slowly from his mouth, licking it one last time before straightening and thrusting his hands into her loosened hair to hold her head while he kissed her.

  Her body vibrated with strange, compelling sensations; dark, sensual emotions that she did not understand but instinctively craved. His blatantly sexual kiss, the touch of his tongue and teeth, his greedy hands that seemed to explore all of her at once—it all drove this demanding, irresistible need to a higher pitch.

  He broke the kiss. “I cannot wait any longer. Forgive me, Priscilla, for not taking more time.” He yanked at the fastenings of his shirt, then leaned forward and gave her another quick kiss. “I promise that next time I will have more control.”

  Sh
e tried to help him remove his shirt, but he stopped.

  “No, don’t. I don’t have much control left at all. Ah, hell.” He stripped the shirt off and threw it on the floor, then curled his arm around her waist and pulled her against him. Bare flesh met bare flesh. He rubbed her against him, the hair on his chest grazing her sensitive breasts with delicious friction. He kissed her again and slid his hand between her legs, through the slit in her drawers, and slipped one finger inside her.

  She jerked, breaking the kiss, and grabbed his shoulders as her breath shuddered from between her lips.

  “God, you’re so ready for me.” He closed his eyes, resting his forehead against hers again, teasing her damp, swelling loins with his fingers. “One more minute of this and it will be too late for me.” With evident reluctance, he pulled his hand free. “Take off your drawers, Priscilla, and lie on the bed.”

  Arousal vibrated through her at the rough command. She slid the drawers off and dropped them on the floor, leaving her still clad in her stockings, garters, and shoes. She bent over to unfasten her shoes.

  He stroked a hand over her head. “You have no idea how arousing that position is, sweetheart. But that is for another time. Leave the bloody shoes on and go lie on the bed.”

  She straightened and sent him a puzzled look.

  He took her chin in his hand and stroked his thumb over her lip. “Please.”

  She went to the bed and lay down on it, a quick dart of guilt shooting through her at the thought of placing her shoes on the clean coverlet.

  He began to unfasten his trousers. “Spread your legs. Don’t be shy, sweetheart. I think you’re beautiful.”

  Hesitantly she opened her legs, blushing at the lewd display she must be providing him. But he never took his eyes from her as he discarded the rest of his garments and then approached the bed. His rod rose proudly from the nest of hair between his thighs, stiff and much, much bigger than she had expected.

  He knelt on the bed between her legs, pausing a moment to nudge her knees into a bent position that seemed to open her up even more, then shifted and settled with his hardness pressing against the core of her. “Easy, sweetheart,” he murmured, then pushed inside her.

  She had expected pain, not this hot, wild stretching. His eyes closed, and he groaned, then he grabbed her by the hips and held her fast as he plunged inside her to the hilt.

  She arched her hips instinctively, allowing him to set the pace as he began to move. She could barely think, could only feel. This was different, she thought briefly. This was good. Then thought spun away on a tidal wave of emotion.

  His muscled body surrounded her, pressing her into the mattress as he drove them higher with strong, urgent thrusts. She clutched his shoulders, torn from within her small, safe world to ride on the wind with him. His eyes were closed, his face a rictus of concentration. She watched him, the only stable force in her world at that moment.

  Suddenly he stiffened and cried out. He slipped from inside her and grabbed himself, shuddering as he spilled his seed on her belly.

  Protecting her, she realized.

  He opened his eyes, his rod still in his hand. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I couldn’t wait for you.”

  She smiled. “It was lovely, Samuel.”

  He barked a laugh. “Lovely? We’re nowhere near finished, darling. Don’t move, and I will show you.”

  Chapter 14

  She lay where he left her as he got off the bed and went in search of a cloth. Between her naïve ignorance about sex and her sinful-looking body, he was amazed he had lasted as long as he had. His climax had come harder and faster than he had anticipated. Hell of a teacher he was.

  He found the towel beside the washbasin and wiped his cock, then turned back to her. She lay where he’d left her, his semen gleaming on her belly. A primal surge of satisfaction surged through him. She looked incredible, naked in his bed with his claim upon her.

  But they weren’t finished, not by a long shot.

  He joined her on the bed and wiped up the fluid on her belly. She watched him with those huge dark eyes, patience and curiosity evident on her face. He set the towel aside and bent to kiss her lips. “Your turn now, love.”

  The word slipped out before he realized it. Even as she frowned, he slipped his hand between her legs and began stroking her. He could tell she was close. Her juices flowed over his fingers, her flesh swollen and warm. He teased her clitoris, watching the awareness and surprise flicker across her face. It didn’t take long; if he’d been able to resist her for just a few more minutes, he would have seen to it she finished before he did. But there was time for that. They’d barely begun. And there was something to be said for having taken the edge off his appetite so he could enjoy the pure shock that rippled across her face as she climaxed.

  She arched her hips and let out a long, low moan, her eyes drifting closed as her loins exploded in his hand.

  “Good girl,” he whispered, and kissed her slack lips.

  When Cilla came back to herself, Samuel was stretched out beside her, his head propped on one elbow as he idly stroked his hand along her torso.

  “Oh,” was all she could think to say, and he burst out laughing before leaning down to kiss her.

  “I hope that means you liked it.” He kissed her again, nibbling on her lower lip for a moment before releasing her.

  “Yes.” She took a deep breath. “Is it always supposed to be like that?”

  “It depends on the people involved. I try to make sure my partner enjoys herself as much as I do. It’s no fun otherwise.”

  “I do not think all men feel the same way.”

  “Your husband?”

  She nodded. “He was always very quick and rough.”

  He frowned. “A man needs to prepare a woman for sex or else it will be uncomfortable for her.”

  “I believe you are correct. This was not uncomfortable for me.” She reached up to stroke his face. “This was beyond wonderful. Thank you.”

  “Oh, sweet Priscilla.” He dropped a kiss on her lips. “There’s a whole world you cannot even imagine.”

  She gaped at him. “More than this?”

  He chuckled. “Much more.”

  “My heavens. How does anyone do anything else once they have discovered this?”

  He roared with laughter, rolling backward onto his back. “Good Lord, Cilla, you amaze me.”

  “Why?” She shifted up onto her elbow, amazed that she felt not the slightest bit embarrassed about lying next to him, both of them stark naked. “I am curious is all. Had I been more careful in my choice of husband, I might have discovered all this earlier.”

  “Well, now you know what to look for.”

  His voice sounded strange, and she belatedly wondered if it was de trop to speak of one’s late husband while naked in bed with another man. Inconsiderate at the least, she decided. “You are an extraordinary lover,” she murmured, and leaned down to kiss his mouth.

  He caught the back of her head when she would have retreated and held her in place, deepening the kiss as her hair fell down around them. Even when he broke off the kiss, he held her where she was. “Can you take me again? I don’t want to hurt you.”

  Excitement exploded in her belly. “I will tell you if you do.”

  “Agreed. Come here.” He dragged her on top of him, but her shoes banged his shins and suddenly seemed to her like a terrible hindrance in her lessons.

  “Wait.” Rolling back, she sat up and quickly unfastened her shoes, then threw them both over the side of the bed before lying back down again. “Now I’m ready.”

  The fond smile on his face made her heart melt as he pulled her on top of him once more and took her mouth in a long, slow kiss that left her dizzy. “You’re going to ride me, sweetheart.”

  “Ride?”

  “Yes. Slide yourself down on me and make yourself feel good.”

  “I’m not sure how.” She bit her lower lip. “Though I do like the way your rod feels inside me.”r />
  He chuckled. “My rod? Hell of a term. I call it a cock, sweetheart. And I like the way it feels inside you as well.”

  “You will have to help me.”

  “Just sit up and brace yourself on my chest until you can get my—”

  “Cock.”

  “—cock inside you. Do you know how arousing it is to hear you say that word? Not a lot of women will utter it.”

  “Cock. I like it. Short and to the point.”

  “Not too short, I hope.”

  “No.” Following his instructions, she succeeded in lowering herself down on the rigid length of him. “Not short at all.”

  “Glad to hear it.” He guided her with his hands on her hips, showing her the rhythm he wanted.

  She picked it up quickly, bracing her hands on his chest so she could retain more control over her movements. Being on the top was an unusual experience. She experimented a little bit: slowly versus quickly, easing backward so he went a bit deeper, grinding forward so he rubbed against that spot between her legs that had brought the explosion of pleasure. Each time she altered her movements, his expression changed or he would utter a sound that she took to be approval. She rapidly learned which pace pleased him the most.

  He reached up to play with her breasts, and his thumbs rubbing against her nipples started a fire burning in her loins that nearly distracted her from what she was doing. She began to work her hips in a way that made his rod…cock…rub against her center of pleasure. His whispers of praise encouraged her. She forgot about everything but feeding the growing hunger, building it into a demand that could not be resisted. It exploded inside her, making her arch her back, her cry nearly a scream, before she collapsed on top of him.

  She came back to herself moments later. He was whispering to her, kissing her forehead, running his hands in soothing strokes down her back.

  “Oh,” she murmured, and he laughed, the sound echoing in his chest pressed against her ear.

  “Is that what you will always say when you reach your climax?” he asked, amusement still heavy in his voice.

  She glanced up at him but couldn’t see much past his chin, and the lethargy of utter satisfaction kept her from lifting her head. “I suppose so.”