by Alison Shaw
Just thinking about the last time he had watched Henry tie up and whip a very willing woman had his cock half hard in his breeches and he shifted in his chair. Somewhere upstairs Charlotte was no doubt retiring for the night. Maybe she was even undressing right now, unrolling her stockings down her long legs, undoing the little buttons down the front of her chemise, peeling it down to reveal lush round breasts tipped with pink nipples. He suppressed a groan and took a long swig of brandy. Was this damned evening ever going to be over? When was it acceptable to retire to his room (or at least pretend to. He had every intention of going somewhere else entirely)? And how in hell was he going to get rid of Justine without causing a scene?
At eleven o’clock on the dot, Rafe could stand it no more and made his excuses. He claimed exhaustion but he also weaved slightly across the room to convince then all that he was far more drunk than he actually was. He could hear Sophie say to Justine, as he shut the door behind him, “Poor Rafe. He does like his liquor a little too much.”
He reckoned he had a good twenty minutes before the lusty Justine came knocking at his door so instead of going straight to Charlotte he decided to retire to his room and freshen up a little first. Seduction was best conducted when looking one’s best.
The sight that greeted him when he opened his bedroom door had his cock leaping back to life. His valet, Johnson was sprawled on a wing chair, his white shirt open, the defined muscles of his chest and abdomen gleaming gold in the candlelight, his breeches undone.
Rafe gulped, and still gripping hold of the doorknob said, “Where did you spring from?” his voice sounding more than a little rough.
Johnson just gave him a lazy grin that had Rafe’s cock lengthening. “I just came back from my mother’s, my Lord. She’s well enough now not to need me.”
Rafe barely listened as he watched transfixed as Johnson’s big hand lazily ran down the ridges of his tight abominable muscles. “Weather’s terrible isn’t it?” Johnson was saying as Rafe followed the hand’s path into the open vent of his breeches. “I got bloody soaked.” His legs spread wider as his hand wrapped around his sizeable cock. Rafe could see the slippery head emerge from his closed fist. He licked his lips. “Close the door,” Johnson said.
In a daze, Rafe did as he was told.
Johnson maintained eye contact as he said, “Come here and suck my cock.”
Rafe took a deep, head clearing breath. Normally, he would already be on his knees with Johnson’s hands gripping his hair and forcing him down onto his thick shaft but not tonight. There was only one thing on his mind tonight.
He took another deep breath as Johnson continued to gaze steadily at him, his black eyes hooded and his full lips slightly open, his hand caressing his ever thickening prick. “I need you to help me with something,” Rafe said.
Johnson raised one perfect eyebrow.
“Any moment now, a Lady is going to come to this room and I need her distracting,” Rafe explained.
“Is she a beautiful Lady?”
“Yes, of course.”
Johnson smiled and stroked his cock. “Do you want me to fuck her?”
“Fuck her. Suck her. Do whatever you want but keep her busy.”
“And what will you be doing, my Lord, while I fuck your friend?”
“That, my dear, is none of your business.”
“How are you going to explain your absence?”
“You are going to take her to her room and fuck her so hard and for so long that she won’t even notice I’m gone. You’re going to make her forget her own name.”
Johnson grinned.
“You can do that, can’t you?”
“You know I can.”
Rafe was going to give Johnson a raise the very first chance he had. And then right on cue there was a cautious knock on the door.
“Tell her to come in and stay exactly as you are,” Rafe said and he hurried into the adjacent dressing room leaving the door slightly ajar.
He heard Justine’s shocked little “Oh!” quite clearly, but the ensuing silence had him peaking through the gap in the door.
Johnson was still slumped in the chair in exactly the same position as he had left him, his hand still curled around his slick erection and he was grinning his irresistible, seductive little smirk. No one could be faced with such a heavenly vision and not want to gaze on it for at least a little while, and it seemed that Justine was just human because there had been no slamming of a door or sound of protest, at least not yet.
Johnson’s eyes drifted shut as his hand continued its leisurely stroking, up and down his rigid shaft. Rafe could see the pearly drops of pre cum oozing from the slit of its shiny head. He was so slick now that Rafe could hear it, a slipping, sliding noise that had him reaching down to his own balls and cup them in an agony of arousal.
“Eddie,” he heard Justine say in her husky voice. “What are you doing here?”
Rafe’s hand shot away from his balls and he had to swallow his surprised gasp.
“What does it look like I’m doing?” Johnson said, opening his eyes and giving Justine a look so heated that Rafe almost applauded him.
“Where’s Lord Fairburn?”
Johnson just shrugged and stretching his legs out further, tugged his breeches down a little so his cock sprang completely free, and lay against his tight belly.
“Who needs Lord Fairburn when you have this?” he asked, looking down at his stiff cock and running his thumb across its glistening head. “It’s all yours, my Lady,” he said fixing her again with his wicked dark eyes. “But you already know that don’t you?”
Rafe was rapidly changing his mind about the raise as he heard Justine’s skirts swishing and she came into view. What the hell had they been up to? And when and where had they done it? Rafe never minded sharing one of his mistresses, and Johnson was usually his first choice when it came to inviting an extra participant into his bed but to play around behind his back? He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He didn’t know whether to be turned on or furious.
Justine was in grabbing distance now and Johnson didn’t hesitate. He reached out and taking hold of her wrist, pulled her between his spread legs. She fell against him, all expensive silk and elaborate coiffeur colliding against solid manly flesh. Johnson’s hands gripped her buttocks, his mouth slammed onto hers and they devoured each other. There was no other word for it, and Rafe found his own breath growing laboured and tight in his chest just watching them hungrily attack each other, tongues plundering, hands desperately scrabbling at each other. To see the elegant and delicate Justine de Mornay fall apart under the rough touch of a man as masculine as Johnson was really something and Rafe held his breath as Justine began to give helpless little moans and gyrate her derriere under the big hands that held her so firmly.
Suddenly, Johnson took hold of Justine’s flushed face and pulled her away from him.
“My God, Eddie,” she gasped. “Take me to my room and fuck me.”
“My pleasure,” Johnson said and with one swift move, stood up.
He had never looked finer, thought Rafe, standing there with his shirt open, his legs spread wide and his huge prick rampant. Justine did the only thing she could do and sank to her knees in worship. Rafe’s cock gave another great leap as she sucked Johnson’s throbbing phallus into her mouth in one deft move, and his fingers immediately sank into her hair dislodging curls and pins.
Johnson’s hips were soon thrusting as she slurped on him noisily, her beautiful face flushed and distorted. He roughly fisted her hair as he rammed himself without mercy into her stretched mouth and as his breeches slipped downwards Rafe was treated to the sight of the tight globes of his arse clenching. Johnson began to mutter obscenities under his breath like a filthy mantra as Justine gagged and the visual and aural stimulation was almost too much for Rafe. His own cock was now so swollen he was lightheaded.
At last Johnson gripped a handful of Justine’s hair and pulled her off him, a wet string of saliva still
connecting the head of his cock to her mouth. “That’s enough,” he grunted roughly. “I want to shoot my load up your wet cunt.”
Justine just gazed up at him as if she had completely lost all her senses, so grabbing her under her arms Johnson heaved her upwards and giving a quick glance towards the dressing room, he winked, before hauling the lady out of the room.
The cocky bastard! Rafe slumped against the wall trying to catch his breath. He didn't know whether to despise the man or worship him.
Chapter 18
The Earl's Seduction
In which our reformed rake prepares himself for a gentle seduction.
The Earl of Langham, stayed slumped against the wall of his dressing room for quite some time, attempting to steady the wild thumping in his chest and regain his senses.
He knew that Johnson was a skilled fornicator. He had seen him perform on enough occasions to know that he could drive a woman to countless orgasms with that big cock of his. He had personal experience of just how good that wicked tongue and those big strong hands could feel. But he was blown away by how completely his manservant had mastered a woman as experienced as Justine de Mornay. When Rafe closed his eyes he could still see the enraptured look on her face as she knelt at Johnson’s feet, the complete passivity of a woman who was prepared to do anything for a man without question.
He had to quench the untamed, desperate lust that coursed through him. It was not safe to go to Charlotte feeling this wild passion. She was not safe when he felt this way. By God, if he went to her like this he would tear her clothes off her and fuck her without mercy, pound in to her with no care for her pleasure, just a mindless need to possess her completely.
He took a deep shuddering breath. Maybe if he stroked himself to release the lust would be abated somewhat. But no, he had promised himself that he would save his seed for her and her alone. He had to see her tonight. He could not sleep with things unsaid between them. He would pull himself together and go to her but not touch her. He would talk to her like a civilized man; he would be the man he had always wanted to be.
His resolve almost left him when he passed Justine’s bedroom door and heard her ecstatic cries. Clearly Johnson was already bringing her to her first orgasm. Rafe pictured Justine’s elegant legs spread and her pert tits bouncing as Johnson impaled her with his thrusting cock. Then he heard Johnson’s deep voice growl, “God Justine, your pussy is so wet, so tight!” and her cries grew louder. Damn, his own cock was now pulsing hard once again in his breeches. He could open that door and join them in bed. It would be that easy but he had witnessed something between the two of them that he did not want to interfere with, a kind of intimacy that almost embarrassed him And impersonal pleasure was not enough for him anymore, so he continued on his way up to the next floor, up to Charlotte.
He soon located what he guessed was her room as it was next door to the nursery and a glow of candlelight shone through the gap at the bottom of the door. He slowly turned the knob and eased the door open to immediately see her sitting up in bed and before he could change his mind he swiftly entered the room and closing the door behind him, leaned his back against it. She silently stared at him, a book in her hand. She was dressed in a thick cotton nightgown with a high neck and her auburn hair was loosely tied and trailed over one shoulder. She looked unspeakably beautiful.
“Are the boys asleep?” he asked, his voice sounding strained. He realised it was the first time he had spoken in what felt like an age.
She silently nodded. They just stared at each other.
He broke the silence. “I … I had to see you, Charlotte.”
“And that woman?” Charlotte asked, her voice a mere whisper. “Where is that woman?”
“I don’t know,” Rafe lied. “And I don’t care.”
“What is she to you? Do you love her?”
“No. She’s nothing Charlotte.” Rafe suddenly found himself reluctant to speak in case unwise words tumbled from his mouth, words he had never said to any woman before. Seeing Charlotte so stripped of artifice had him completely undone. All his usual confidence and charm had deserted him.
He was also unable to move, seemingly stuck to the door, afraid to do anything at all.
Charlotte carefully placed her book on the chair next to her bed and pushing the blankets down a little, stepped onto the floor. Rafe’s breath caught in his throat as he watched her bare feet step onto the wooden floorboards. Her toenails were pearly pink and he was transfixed.
She walked towards him and his eyes were drawn up the skirt of her loose nightgown to where her hips flared and filled the fabric.
“You are uncommonly quiet, my Lord,” she said as she moved towards him. “Are you sleepwalking perhaps?”
“No,” he whispered, still clinging to the safety of the door, “but I feel like I am.”
She had reached him now and stood so close he could feel her soft breath on his face. She was tall enough for their eyes to meet almost at a level. Hers were green and clear and eyelashes fluttered in the candlelight. He gulped and his fingers curled into tight fists.
She smiled slowly and her lips brushed against his, cool and soft.
“Touch me, Rafe,” she breathed.
And with a shuddering sigh his hands went to her waist and he pulled her to him, claiming her mouth with a sudden force, making her gasp and open her mouth as his tongue slipped between her lips and delved into the yielding wetness, all thoughts of restraint and control instantly evaporating.
Her arms went round his neck and his groin pushed against hers as the kiss deepened, then he felt her hand slip between them and settle over the straining bulge in his pants. The surprise and pleasure of her touch shot through him and he catapulted from the door, pushing her across the room and onto the bed, falling on top of her in a panting heap, his hands pushing up her nightgown until her legs were bared and he could see the silky nest of tawny curls.
“Rafe,” she murmured. “Oh Rafe!” and her breathless urging had him lightheaded as he pushed her thighs apart and plunged his face between her legs. She tasted of heaven, he managed to register in his hazy mind as his tongue sank into her wetness and traced swirling patterns until she was writhing under his grip.
He felt her hands grab hold of his hair as she cried, “Oh Rafe, I need you! I’ve waited too long,” and she pulled his head upwards leaving him in no doubt of what she wanted. Her hair was wild against the blanket and her eyes dark and clouded, and fumbling at his breeches, he released his throbbing cock and taking it in his hand guided it to her wet entrance.
“Are you sure?” he managed to choke out. “Is this what you want?”
She was looking down at where the bulbous head of his cock nudged her and she nodded and spreading her legs wider, wiggled her hips slightly so he sank further in. God, it felt good and it was all he could do not to thrust hard and impale her but he gritted his teeth and eased in slowly, inch by glorious inch feeling her hot velvet sheaf surround him.
“Oh God Charlotte,” he groaned as he sank all the way in.
Their eyes met as he withdrew slowly and the look of wonder on her face had his cum churning in his balls. He fought to keep control. He had to do this gently. He had to give her pleasure, no matter how much he wanted to let go and just fuck.
But then she whispered, “Rafe,” a begging entreaty and his control broke, just like that. He thrust back into her with one hard, brutal lunge. She closed her eyes and threw her head back onto the bed and thrust her hips up to meet his, to drive his cock deeper. He was in so deep his balls were rammed against her, and he grabbed hold of her waist and encouraged by her cries, pounded her with a grim determination, slid his hard cock nearly all the way out and back in again, felt the hot, tight walls of her cunt grip him until they were both crying out.
“Yes, yes,” she moaned in time to his deep thrusts and leaning back, he pressed his thumb against her swollen nubbin as he managed to slow his pace a little and rock into her, finding just the right a
ngle and rhythm to escalate her cries. He had to make her come. He was determined to make her come. Wiping the sweat away from his eyes he pulled his cock out and slid it over her slick lips and clitoris. His rigid shaft, thick and veined, glided over her until her hips were raised almost off the bed and her legs began to shake and then he plunged into her once again and felt her break around him, her spasms gripping him, and he lifted his hips and fucked her hard, pounded into her until his cum came firing out of him so fast he was left slumped on top of her, his head empty of all thought.
When he came round, she was cradling his head against her breast and stroking his hair and then his cheek and he turned towards her palm and kissed her, breathing in her gentle scent. What was this strange sensation he had in his chest and throat? And were those tears that were dampening his cheeks?
Chapter 19
The Governess Succumbs
In which the governess endures a miserable carriage ride.