The Seduction n-1
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She felt a surge of lust flow through her at the feel of him, remembering the exquisite pleasure he had brought her. Her fingers brushed the engorged crest, circling the smooth, swollen head, stroking the velvet-sheathed hardness. Then she let her touch glide downward to lightly grasp the enormous shaft, marveling at the thick, surging length, so strong and pulsing with life.
Damien’s gaze turned to smoke while his breathing sharpened. “Feel how your touch makes me tremble.”
He made her tremble as well. Vanessa quivered, need for him pulsing between her thighs.
“I can’t wait,” she whispered, her voice both a plea and an imperative.
“Then don’t,” he replied his smile wicked with sensuality.
She was still fully clothed, but she raised the skirts of her morning gown and moved to sit astride him. Balancing herself on her knees, she slowly impaled herself, giving a whimper of pleasure as her yielding flesh absorbed him.
He aided her then by raising his hips a tantalizing degree.
Vanessa gasped.
“How deep do you want me inside you?” he asked provocatively as he thrust upward another inch.
“Deeper… please…”
Damien obliged, and it was more than she could bear. The inflammatory pleasure spread through her body, instant and all-consuming, and she began to move helplessly, grinding her sex against him.
When she pleaded with him for release, he finally took pity on her and caught her gyrating hips, holding her still and matching each silken thrust to her breathless rhythm. Vanessa answered with all the vigor in her trembling body.
She came almost at once. With a low groan, she fell forward on top of him, shoving her face against his warm shoulder to bury her burgeoning scream.
When eventually she recovered her dazed senses, she found herself draped over him languorously, while he was still huge and hard inside her.
Damien’s amused voice sounded in her ear. “Your eagerness is highly flattering, sweeting, but I see our next lesson should be on the art of control.”
Those sessions left her breathless and trembling, and made her task of protecting herself all the more difficult. To her dismay, Vanessa felt herself falling further under Damien’s sinfully erotic spell. He was like a potent drug, obsessing her senses and addicting her to his touch. She found herself struggling desperately against her newly awakened desires and the enticing wickedness of his caresses.
Far more dangerous, though, were the powerful emotions he aroused in her. She feared the tenderness most. There were times during the quiet, intimate moments after carnal lust had been spent when it was hard for her to remember that their relationship was strictly professional. Yet she knew that if she hoped to shield her heart, she would have to dissociate herself from any and all feelings for him.
He spoke to her about practical matters as well as sexual ones-things she would need to know if she were to spend her future gracing the beds of rakes. He described what would be expected of her outside the bedroom, in the glittering salons and fashionable ballrooms of London. He advised her on the considerations she could expect in the way of jewelry and clothing, carriages and horses, houses and furnishings. He emphasized the importance of pretending an avid interest in her male companions, smiling at inane conversations, flirting with fops enamored with their own self-consequence, hanging on their every word, no matter how boring a spirited, intelligent woman might find them. He told her how to capitalize on the natural talents she possessed.
“Beauty is an asset, certainly, but that alone doesn’t always make a woman desirable.”
“If not beauty, then what?”
“Any combination of qualities can be arousing-a keen wit, a facile charm, a certain liveliness, a stylish flair, a subtle sensuality. Demeanor can be a greater temptation than even physical attributes. Even a plain Jane can prove irresistible if she has other merits in her favor.”
Vanessa studied Damien curiously. “Have you ever found any woman irresistible?”
His mouth curved in a cynical smile. “A few. For a time. I make it a point never to allow my interest to be held for long.”
Vanessa fell silent, remembering the reason Damien had given her for keeping away from her bed. Our association was becoming too heated for my peace of mind…
That was why Damien had ended his pursuit of her, she realized. Why he had withdrawn emotionally from her when it seemed their intimacy was growing too intense. He was determined to hold himself apart from her and never allow his emotions to become involved.
She felt her own heart constrict with regret for the loss, yet she couldn’t allow herself the luxury of sorrow.
At those times particularly-during his dispassionate lectures where they cold-bloodedly plotted to ensnare an unsuspecting protector for her-Vanessa wondered if she could carry out her plan.
She didn’t like to think of having to give her body to any other man. Indeed, the only man she could see in the intimate role of protector was Damien.
Yet her assessment was still rational. After having known the patronage of the notorious Lord Sin, she should be able to make an excellent liaison elsewhere, and her sisters would be safe from penury.
If there were moments when she felt a wave of despair at the course she had chosen, she grimly pushed it aside. There were many names for the role she was attempting to learn-high flier, bird of paradise, Cyprian, courtesan… but the bald, unvarnished truth was, she was learning how to be a whore. An expensive, elegant whore, admittedly. But still a whore. Yet she could not afford squeamishness or sentimentality.
She would not be the first woman to earn her livelihood between the sheets. There were any number of successful courtesans who had learned to live by their wits and beauty alone. Besides, the role of mistress was far preferable to that of wife. A wife was infinitely more vulnerable to a man’s tyranny. Upon marriage a woman lost control of her fortune, her children, even her body.
And in many respects the life of a courtesan would actually be liberating. She would no longer have to feel trapped by society’s rigid dictates and hypocritical judgments.
And so she forced herself to learn well the lessons Damien so expertly taught.
His second goal was to make her comfortable with her own body.
“You are an apt pupil, sweeting, but you still have much to learn about lovemaking. We have scarcely begun to explore the depths of your passion…”
To that end, he introduced her to the delights of scented oils and body massage. For the lesson he spread several sheets over the chaise lounge to protect the brocade, then instructed her to undress. When Vanessa suggested he be the one to lie naked on the chaise lounge instead of her, Damien shook his head.
“No, lie back and enjoy your lesson. You should experience the pleasures of manual stimulation for yourself so you understand how best to arouse your lover.”
He smoothed oil all over her body, starting from behind… her neck, her spine, her buttocks, her thighs… His hands moved slowly, massaging gently, rhythmically, the heat and slow languid motion unbelievably sensual. Then he made her turn onto her back so that he could anoint her breasts and nipples.
Vanessa was trembling even before his magical hands moved to her legs. Spreading his palms, he stroked upward along her thighs to the feminine juncture, where he paused.
Damien gazed down at her with eyes that seemed to scorch her with searing heat. “If, by some misfortune, you have a lover who cannot arouse you, leaving you too dry for penetration, then you can use this method.”
His oil-slick fingers slid inside her, his thumbs brushing the exposed bud of her sex. With a shudder of pleasure, Vanessa closed her eyes and arched against him, letting him sweep her away to a world of bliss.
Oil was not the only stimulant he used. He also taught her the merits of roses in lovemaking.
Several afternoons later, Damien made her undress for him, so that she wore nothing but her corset and gartered stockings. Vanessa blushed when she glance
d at the erotic image of herself in the mirror. The garment was nothing more than a tight-laced frame for her bare breasts, one that emphasized the thrusting ripeness of her jutting nipples and left the mound at the vee of her thighs completely exposed.
“Remind me,” Damien said, surveying her thoughtfully, “to take you shopping for an appropriate wardrobe when we go to London. That corset doesn’t do your exquisite body justice, as well as being much too plain for your intended effect.”
She turned to eye him quizzically. “Are we going to London?”
His gaze suddenly became hooded. “It is the most obvious place to begin your search for a protector. We’ll have to proceed discreetly, of course, as long as you are my sister’s companion. But learning to negotiate the London demimonde is essential to your education. And there are some dangers you should know about if you mean to dwell on the fringes of the underworld.”
“And who better to teach me about the dangers of wickedness than the notorious Lord Sin?” Vanessa asked archly.
“Exactly. Now come here.”
He was sitting in one of the two wing chairs, holding a long-stemmed crimson rose. Still flushing, Vanessa went to stand before him.
His devouring gaze ranged the length of her, over her breasts gleaming pale and bare… her thighs with the crown of dark curls covering the cleft of her femininity. Offering her a beguiling smile then, he lifted the rose and teased her nipples with it, arousing her till she shuddered. Moving lower then, he drew the velvet petals slowly over the lips of her sex.
Vanessa drew a sharp breath at the delicate sensation.
Damien plucked a crimson petal and held it out to her. “Now your turn.”
“My turn?”
“To touch yourself.”
The color in Vanessa’s cheeks rose higher, but Damien seemed to dismiss her embarrassment.
“Your lover may not be considerate enough to see to your needs. You should learn to achieve your own relief in the event you have a man who cannot satisfy you.”
Obeying with reluctance, she took the soft petal and brushed it over the secret place between her thighs. Abruptly Vanessa felt a wild tingle of excitement surge through her blood.
“This,” she whispered, gazing down at him, “is so decadent.”
“Not yet,” Damien murmured. “But it will be, I promise you. Now continue. Pretend those are my fingers caressing you, arousing you to pleasure.”
Her gaze locking with Damien’s, she did as he bid, exploring a world of forbidden mystery. Heat flared inside her as she stroked herself with the rose petal, gliding over the taut bud that was growing slick with her own juices.
Damien’s eyes darkened as he watched. “Your nipples are hard, sweeting. Does that mean you’re becoming aroused?”
“Yes… but it isn’t the same as when you…”
He smiled. “I’m flattered. Perhaps you’re ready for the next lesson after all.”
Drawing her hand away, he leaned forward and pressed a kiss on the intimate dewy center of her. Vanessa went rigid with surprise.
“Have I ever told you how much I like the scent of roses?” Damien murmured huskily.
His eyes gleaming like liquid silver, he stood and undressed her completely. Then, leading her to the bed, he pressed her down upon the sheets and arranged her position to his liking: her hair forming a torrent of tousled silk over her bare breasts, a pillow beneath her hips, her naked thighs spread for his sensual appreciation.
He held her gaze as he stood back to undress. “It’s time you discovered just how pleasurable decadence can be.”
She waited in rapt and aching anguish for him to come to her, aware of the most potent sense of anticipation she’d ever felt.
Naked and aroused, he joined her on the bed and knelt between her thighs. The heat of his gaze set her blood on fire. Yet he didn’t enter her. Instead he bent to her breasts that were begging to be touched.
His tongue circled a dusky crest, now pebbled and eager. Vanessa whimpered with pure joy at knowing his caress again.
“I mean to show you,” he whispered against her skin, “just how to use your mouth to drive a man wild…”
He flicked his tongue over her nipples one by one, swirling over the aureoles, setting her nerves awake with each caress. Then his lips and teeth joined the assault, sending pleasure shafting deep within her loins.
Vanessa gave a low moan. Her sensitive nipples ached now, hard and pointed and tender to the point of pain. His mouth moved lower then, over the rest of her body. His flaming tongue struck sparks along her flesh, laving exquisitely each curve and swell and hollow, making her tremble with sensations so vibrant they hurt.
Between caresses Damien spoke to her, each low, sensuous word stroked her as his wicked tongue was doing.
“I want to kiss you, sweeting, all over your beautiful body. I want to explore every inch of your hot skin and make it mine. I want to hear you moan raw sounds of pleasure that will drive me mad…”
The wanton images so vivid, so potent, stirred errant quivers of wanting in her midsection, between her thighs.
“I want you drowning in need, my name trembling on your lips…”
His breath whispering against her skin, he kissed the soft satin of her stomach, leaving her trembling, driving her to madness with his deliberate slowness.
As if he could sense her need, his hand moved downward, slipping between her legs. She moaned as her softness flowed around his fingers’ erotic stroking, and moaned again as his wet tongue trailed against the shivering surface of her inner thigh. She wanted this, hungered for his possession.
He moved still lower. “I want to love you with my mouth…”
She saw his nostrils flare as he breathed in her spicy woman’s scent. Then he kissed her, a tantalizing brush of sensual lips against her dewy warmth.
Gasping, Vanessa tried to twist away in shocked protest, but he reached up to catch her hands, his grasp like velvet manacles on her wrists. Desire burned in his eyes as he bent to her again.
She moaned as his tongue traced the outer rim of her soaking cleft. Then he settled his mouth against her intimately, sucking and nibbling and softly biting, plunging her into a sea of raw sensation.
His mouth brought her the most riveting kind of pleasure she had ever known. Heat and dizziness swept over Vanessa. From a distance she heard his husky voice filling her mind with erotic words of how much he wanted her, desired her. His teeth nipped gently at the swollen, aching folds of her flesh, preparing her for his taking, until she was shameless in her craving for release.
“Damien…” she pleaded as she thrashed beneath his caresses.
He ravished her sweetly with his tongue, determined to find the deepest, most forbidden reserves of ecstasy. Finally she could no longer bear the tender torment. She came hot and wet and slippery against his mouth, shaking with sweet spasms. Even then he gave her no surcease. Moving upward swiftly, Damien covered her with the textured heat of his chest and plunged deep.
One rhythmic stroke was enough to spark a fresh tumult of excitement within her. When she arched upward eagerly, he drove hungrily between her thighs, groaning as her feverish, ready heat enveloped him.
She gave a responding cry as she felt the splendor begin anew. She was shaking with the fire of his possession, shattering… With her tremors, Damien lost control of his savage need. As bliss ripped through her in white-hot waves, he joined her fierce ecstasy, uttering a feral growl as he plunged to a blind, furious release.
Long after he had collapsed on her, long after her trembling had ceased, she lay languid in his arms, pulsing with pleasure, lost in dreams. Contentment washed over Damien as he held her close. His fingers lightly stroked her fevered skin that was rapidly cooling, while he marveled absently at how perfectly she fit.
His satisfaction was short-lived. Shifting his weight, he felt the sting of the nail cuts she’d left on his back. Damien smiled grimly, remembering her raw cries of ecstasy. He had pleasured Vanessa,
fulfilled her, and taken her to paradise with him-and become lost in paradise himself.
How wrong he had been. He’d thought that having her again and again would eventually satisfy his fierce craving for her. Had hoped to make his obsession run its course. But his plan was an utter failure. Far from ending, his desire was only burgeoning, his hunger more potent than anything he had ever known. He felt an ungovernable need to possess her endlessly, to brand her as his own, to make her as obsessed as he was becoming.
Damien swore silently. He would have to take Vanessa to London without delay. The sooner he found her another protector, the sooner he could be free of her.
With practiced detachment he clamped down on the sharp surge of disquiet that twisted inside him. He’d had dozens of paramours, ended dozens of liaisons before Vanessa. This time should be no different.
Willfully, Damien ignored the thought of how he would feel when she gave herself to someone besides himself. She would pass to another lover with his blessing, someone who would appreciate her intelligence, her rare spirit, and leave him free to regain control of his soul.
Chapter Fourteen
It was settled. They planned to leave for London the following Monday. Damien claimed to have business in town that required his personal attention. When he proposed that Vanessa accompany him to engage in some shopping, Olivia strongly supported the idea, saying that her companion’s entire wardrobe badly needed replenishing.
Vanessa didn’t like to think of leaving the girl alone at Rosewood, but Olivia maintained she wasn’t yet ready to make the tiring journey, or prepared to leave the protective cocoon of her home. She confided as well that she would actually enjoy the solitude and the chance to assert her independence from her brother.
And so Vanessa reluctantly packed her bags, consoling herself with the knowledge that, in any event, she would be permanently relinquishing her role as companion at summer’s end. Moreover, London was not so very far away, and they would be gone for only a handful of days. The trip would be a good test to see how Olivia managed on her own.