The Countess Takes a Lover

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The Countess Takes a Lover Page 8

by Bonnie Dee


  And so the space he had for the nursery was cut down even further. What he really needed was a separate greenhouse for the seedlings, one where he could control conditions more easily and give the plants exactly what they needed. He paused, wondering if Meredith would consider building an addition.

  The sound of the door opening broke him from his reverie in which he’d imagined an entire complex of greenhouses at his disposal. He turned toward the fetching sight of Meredith in a white smock over a lilac gown approaching him.

  “Another shipment has arrived.” Her cheeks were pink and her eyes bright. She looked nearly as excited as he felt. “Big crates. It must be the saplings. I’ve told the deliverymen to bring the wagon around the side of the house. There’s quite a cutting breeze today and we wouldn’t want to freeze our precious babies.”

  Chris smiled. She was learning quickly about the proper care of all kinds of plants. Understanding that plants, like people, often didn’t respond well to change, was an important point in nurturing them. Once an environment was established, the less disturbance the better.

  “Wonderful. I’ve got the earth ready.” He’d tilled plenty of composted manure and peat into the soil in preparation for the areca palms he intended to plant. Now it was merely a matter of digging a deep hole for the root ball and watering assiduously until the Chrysalidocarpus lutescens acclimated to their new home.

  “The ground is christened and everything,” Meredith agreed.

  A flash of heat stabbed him, and he grinned as he recalled just how they’d baptized that particular plot in the south corner of the conservatory. He’d been digging, churning the soil and mixing it with compost for hours. His arms and back ached and sweat had slicked his naked torso. His hair had been as wet as if he’d soaked his head in a rain barrel, and he was just leaning on the shovel regarding the dark, rich patch of earth when Meredith had arrived with a cool drink of lemonade. He’d drained it in several long gulps.

  “It looks very…dirty,” she’d remarked, gazing at the ground, “and so do you.”

  Her hands slipped and slid over his sweaty, filthy chest and stomach, then went for his breeches, unfastening and pulling them down with expert haste. In moments, they’d both been naked and Meredith had grabbed his hand and dragged him down into the soil he’d spent all afternoon painstakingly preparing.

  “We can’t lie here. I’ve only just got it aerated. We don’t want to compact the earth.”

  “I do.” She hooked her hand around his neck and pulled him to her for a long, deep kiss. “I want to roll around like an animal. Rowr!” Her buoyancy was contagious. Besides, how could one argue with a beautiful naked woman requesting sex?

  Over the past weeks the countess had taught him many things about intercourse. He’d never known one could engage in so many positions in so many places. Each nuance of location and pose added a unique flavor to the act, making it fresh every time. He’d found new spots to nibble and kiss on her body, learned what drove her wild and that it might be different things on different days. He’d also learned what incredible pleasure she could give him and that her sweet smile and teasing voice affected him in ways he’d never imagined.

  Meredith knelt on her hands and knees and glanced at him over her shoulder. “Just like an animal,” she breathed. “Do it.”

  With no more foreplay than that, no nipple sucking or cunnilingus, Chris had obligingly moved in behind her raised ass and guided his erection to her pussy. She wiggled her bottom invitingly. The white cheeks were soft and supple beneath his gripping hands. He’d grabbed her hips tight and drove into her with a powerful thrust, impaling her deeply.

  Meredith had moaned and pushed back against him. “Harder. As rough as you can. I want it like that.”

  And as he’d continued to slam into her, grunting like a beast, she’d exhorted him to greater efforts using curse words he’d never heard. Raw, animal passions swept through him as he pushed deeper and harder, driving her hands and knees into the soil. The scent of peat and compost had risen in an earthy cloud around them and filled his senses as he came with a tremendous burst that tore a primal cry from him.

  Meredith had wailed in response, a cry of release that resounded in the enclosed room, bouncing off the glass walls and ceiling.

  When the last wave of climax had faded away, he’d pulled out from between her thighs, and she’d dropped down from all fours and rolled onto her back, her body white against the dark earth. She’d stared up at him, breasts heaving, mouth open, eyes wide. “Now our trees will grow well. The ground is energized and full of life here. And in the future, every time I look at the palms, I’ll remember this day.”

  Recalling the christening made his cock rise in his breeches. It seemed he spent most of the time hard these days. Just the sight of Meredith, a whiff of her perfume or a blink of her long-lashed eyes was enough to set him off. She had him in thrall to her sexual charms…to all her charms, and he was content to be so for as long as she wanted him there.

  The dray wagon pulled into sight with a creaking of axles and stopped. Chris pressed a quick kiss to his lover’s lips. “I’d better supervise the unloading.”

  The trees he’d chosen would grow no higher than fifteen feet. Several of the dwarf palms would make an attractive cluster of smooth pale trunks with large, shiny green leaves, providing they survived the move from the greenhouse where they’d been raised. A long ride over bumpy roads while enclosed in crates in weather that had turned suddenly cool was not the best guarantee for survival.

  Chris had the draymen carry the crates in, and Meredith dismissed the men with a generous tip in hand. He eagerly opened the crates with a crowbar to reveal the young palms inside.

  “More digging,” Meredith commented. “That’s good. I love to watch you do it.”

  “Well, you might try lending a hand rather than simply standing around. There are bulbs you could be planting,” he reminded her.

  “And I intend to.” She indicated her pristine white smock. “See, I’ve dressed for work.”

  He smiled. “That’s hardly a gardener’s apron. Aren’t you afraid of getting it dirty?”

  “Not at all. You just show me how deep you want the bulbs planted and I’ll do that while you put in the trees.”

  After handing her a trowel, he showed her the spot of ground where the flowers would grow. Rather than common varieties of daffodils, hyacinths or gladiolus, he’d chosen more exotic species: a Peruvian daffodil, Hymenocallis narcissiflora and a checkered lily, Fritillaria meleagris, among others. Each bulb or tuber had certain requirements, and he didn’t quite trust Meredith to be too particular about depth—or even making sure the proper end was pointing up. But he had to release his tendency to over-supervise and allow her freedom. It was her garden, after all.

  Soon she was kneeling and plugging the bulbs into the loosened soil, her skirt pooled around her and tendrils of her hair falling around her face. She didn’t even notice when he left her for the task of digging holes for the new trees.

  As they channeled their efforts into work, the heat and humidity in the greenhouse grew. Chris removed his shirt and considered taking off his undershirt as well. There was no formality or propriety here in Meredith’s country cottage. The two of them were beyond the rules of polite society in a world of their own creation. But if he was half-naked, she’d soon have him all naked and the job wouldn’t get finished. Chris kept his undershirt on.

  He pushed the shovel into the dirt with his boot and removed another heavy load. Judging the hole deep enough, he lifted one of the palm trees, removed the burlap from the balled roots and set it in the ground. As he filled the hole, a voice came from behind him. “You do realize it’s crooked.”

  He tamped the dirt down with his foot and stepped back from the palm, which did indeed tilt slightly to the left. “No it isn’t.”

  “Come now. We can’t have a grove of crooked trees. Imagine how unsightly that would be.” She folded her arms over her chest as she
regarded the planting. A smudge of dirt ran from her forehead all the way down to her jaw. He wanted to lean close and lick her face clean.

  “Trees reach for the light. They straighten as they grow.”

  “Ah, then you admit this one is planted crooked.”

  He seized her around the waist and pulled her to him, growling, “I admit no such thing.” He nuzzled into the side of her neck, kissing her, licking the salt from her skin, tugging on her earlobe with his teeth.

  Pulling back, he looked at the tree again. “At any rate, it’s too hot to argue. Wait until I have them all planted before you start critiquing. And then, when I have set everything to your satisfaction, we’ll go for a swim.”

  “Mm. I do love to swim.” Her voice was a sexual purr intended to remind him of other days they’d spent at the lake, splashing in the water, sunning their nude bodies on the soft grass and making love repeatedly in the shade of a thick canopy of leaves.

  “Back to work then.” He thrust her away from his growing erection. “The sooner we finish, the sooner we may begin.”

  Less than an hour later they finished their greenhouse work. Chris watered the new saplings one last time, and together they stood back to admire the effect of the fledgling grove.

  “I can imagine them touching the ceiling. They will be stunning,” Meredith said. “And to be able to sit on a bench in this paradise in the dead of winter will be wonderful.”

  “The glazier has replaced the broken glass, but we should have all of the panes examined, the caulking re-sealed and the frame checked before snow flies. A buildup of ice could be disastrous on a weak structure.” He shuddered at the image of a glass roof collapsing under the weight of ice to shatter on a vulnerable woman sitting in her garden below. Chris gripped her hand tightly, assuring himself of her safety.

  “Ach, we’re as grimy as street urchins.” She lifted their joined hands. Even though she’d worn gloves, her hands were nearly as dirty as his. “Time for a swim and a hot bath afterward to wash away the smell of pond water.”

  When they left the warm confines of the conservatory, a fresh breeze brushed overheated skin, evaporating the sweat of their labors and cooling them. “Early for it to be so cool,” Chris remarked.

  “Not so early. It’s September. We shall have to return to London soon.”

  “Why?” He released her hand and slipped his around her waist. “Neither of us is interested in that social whirl, balls, concerts, parties, gaming. The city isn’t where I want to be.”

  “Perhaps I miss it.” She glanced at him with a raised eyebrow. “Don’t presume to speak for me. Maybe I like the gaiety of a dance now and then or a shopping trip someplace where I may buy frivolous things. Maybe there are friends I want to see, other people besides you with whom I want to spend time.”

  Meredith had reminded him periodically during their time together that their affair was temporary. But the deeper his feelings for her became, the more impossible it seemed that she didn’t feel the same way about him.

  He neither argued nor conceded her point, but shifted to a different angle. “The breeze is nice today. Fresh air is one very good reason to stay in the country. I don’t think I can bear the pall of coal smoke every day. It’s a wonder everyone in London doesn’t have lung disorders.”

  The path turned around a copse of trees and Meredith pulled away from him to trot swiftly ahead toward the water. She unbuttoned her dress as she ran and had stripped to her underwear by the time she reached the water. She pulled the pins and ribbons from her hair and shook her head, letting the midnight locks tumble around her shoulders.

  Chris held back for a moment just to watch her. The erotic sight of Meredith in a corset, stockings and lilac-satin shoes that matched her discarded dress was entrancing. The corset framed her already taut figure, cinching her waist and pushing her breasts up so that they rose in two pale mounds above the top. She wore a garter belt and lacy garters which attached to her sheer white stockings, but her bottom was bare, the pink cheeks thrust provocatively out when she turned and bent toward the water.

  After dipping her hand in, she turned and called, “Still warm. The air hasn’t cooled it too much yet.”

  God, her front was even more stunning than the back. In addition to the swell of her décolletage, her dark-haired pussy was on display. He could see a flash of her labia below the concealing thatch and longed to kneel at her feet and explore it further—as if he didn’t know every inch of her intimately by now.

  “Unlace me,” she demanded, turning her back to him. “Don’t know why I ever wear this silly thing when I’m in the country.”

  He walked up behind her and untied the satin ribbons that held the whalebone corset closed. Eyelet by eyelet, he loosened the ties until she was free and could remove the encasing garment. Her breasts swayed as she tossed it aside, so beautiful, round and soft. The nipples tightened to hard beads almost instantly at the cool kiss of air. His mouth opened in anticipation of sucking one into his mouth. Knowing what her breasts felt and tasted like only made him desire them more all the time. He felt he would never tire of her body or of spending time with this vivacious woman.

  His drawing on her back had faded and washed away from repeated swimming and bathing, but he could still see a faint, smeary trace of the Tree of Life. He’d have to decorate her again, perhaps with a rare orchid this time. Gazing at the flexing muscles of her back, he pictured it there. Perhaps he could add color this time and tease her with a paintbrush’s tickling stroke.

  She unfastened a garter and began rolling down a stocking, then paused to look up at him. “What are you waiting for?”

  “Just enjoying the view.” He reached for the buttons on the front of his shirt. In moments he’d caught up with her and was as naked as Adam in the Garden. This wild, bohemian lifestyle suited him. He’d never imagined he could shake off his stuffy notion of what a man should be so easily. The high ideals he’d held about the nature of man as an intellectual being set apart from other animals seemed narrow-minded now. He hadn’t taken into account that humans have both primitive and divine attributes and both parts are necessary to make a man whole.

  By the time he ran into the water, mud squelching between his toes, Meredith was already swimming out to the center of the pond. She turned and paddled in place, watching him come toward her. Her wet hair floated around her shoulders and strands clung to the sides of her face. “A bit chilly today.”

  He could see from her breasts, bobbing like buoys on the surface of the water, that it was. Her aureoles were puckered and her nipples hard as pebbles. On either side, her arms waved, keeping her afloat, as she reclined back into the water.

  Chris passed the point where he could touch bottom and swam to her. He side-stroked in a slow circle around his enchanting mermaid. “You’d leave all this beauty and the freedom to do exactly as you please to return to city life?”

  “Maybe exactly what I please is a short sojourn in London. Enough, Christopher! I don’t wish to discuss this anymore.” Her tone was sharper than he’d ever heard it. “We’ve had a lovely time. But we always knew it would have to end eventually.”

  He knew nothing of the kind, and would continue living with her indefinitely if she would agree to it. “You’re already tired of me, Meredith? Don’t you feel something growing between us—something that might be love?”

  She frowned. “Oh please, professor. You have a logical mind. You can’t believe in such a romantic notion. Lust. Sexuality. Pleasure in one another’s company. Two bodies coming together for mutual satisfaction. Those things are true, but everlasting love is a fantasy.”

  Chris could actually see her face shutting down, like a flower open to the sun by day, but closing its petals at night. More argument was not going to win his case. He needed to reach her another way, and he must find it, before she ended their affair and whisked them both off to London.

  To dispel the tension between them, he swam close to her and slipped his arms arou
nd her, drawing her cool, wet body against his. Beneath the surface of the water, their legs kicked gently to keep afloat. He bent to kiss her. Her lips were warm and tasted of pond water. The appeal of the woman in his arms was beyond anything he’d ever imagined.

  Chris had idealized women before beginning this passionate affair and learning the truth about the nature of a woman. Hidden beneath layers of garments and shields of propriety, females had seemed like perfect, untouchable beings. Now he knew they sweated, belched, passed wind and secreted sexual juices just like men. They seemed much more approachable, more vulnerable and more endearing. Or perhaps the last just applied to Meredith. He accepted her imperfections and foibles as well as her strengths. He wanted all of her, always—and this after spending only a few weeks together.

  A short-lived affair wasn’t nearly enough. He had to convince her to continue their relationship. He had to have her for the rest of his life.

  Chapter Eight

  She wasn’t in love with him, Meredith told herself.

  Chris might be a better lover than many she’d had, which was an unexpected development, but he was still just a lover, a temporary diversion to enjoy then discard.

  Even if she believed in such twaddle as “love”, she would never marry him. She’d be a fool to give up her hard-earned freedom to become a man’s chattel—all her properties, her businesses, her estate, her very person legally belonging to him. She’d suffered that once and would never again. No matter how sweet and caring Christopher might seem, he was still a man with a man’s tendency to dominate and possess. Well, she would not be dominated or possessed ever again in her life.

  Relaxing into the tepid bathwater, Meredith soaped her body. Her maid, Cecile poured warm water over her, rinsing her clean. The heat was comforting and relaxing. Her jangled nerves began to settle and her mind to quiet. There was no need to be in such an uproar over this. A few more days of pleasure with the young man and then she’d follow through on her part of the agreement with Lord Whitby. She’d take Christopher to London and launch him into society with the new confidence she’d engendered in him, not to mention his improved skills in dancing and drawing room conversation.

 

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