Charming the Snake

by MaryJanice Davidson, Camille Anthony, Melissa Schroeder

  “I take it you haven’t fucked her yet,” Dare quipped, sure his brother’s unusual enthusiasm was merely a case of sexual anticipation and frustration.

  Chezann drew himself up to his full, impressive height. His narrowed eyes bored into his brother’s. “It is not what you are thinking, and I will thank you not to speak of her like that.” His low voice carried a cold warning.

  Dare was taken aback by C.C.’s vehemence. “I suppose I must see this paragon,” he said, the playfulness falling away, “if you are serious about her.” C.C. was the only person left in his life he held in affection. “As your elder brother, I must determine if she is worthy of you. Do you mean to offer for her?”

  The question gave the younger man pause. “I-I haven’t gotten that far yet,” he stammered, throwing out his hands. “But I do like her... a lot. Please, just keep an open mind.”

  “You know how I feel about debutantes and their infernal search for husbands,” Dare reminded his smitten companion. “However, as you ask it of me, I will... attempt to be civil.”

  “That is all I ask.” C.C. grabbed Dare’s sleeve. “Here she is! Chastity, allow me to introduce Darien Acer, my bro… er … ah … my best friend. Dare, Lady Chastity Tilson, ‘Chassy’ to her friends.”

  Dare turned to greet his brother’s new interest and time stopped. The world went away. At six feet, six inches, Dare was used to feeling like a giant around the ladies, but this goddess’s autumn-highlighted curls didn’t even clear his shoulders. He would have to bend far to meet her moist pink lips. Better to lift her up to him.

  He closed his eyes and saw her still. Saw her held against his bedroom wall while he pushed his thick erection into her small, tight sheath. He could almost feel the kiss he shared with her in this waking dream, taste the sweetness of her lips, savor the slickness of her pink little tongue...

  He opened his eyes and she was there, staring back at him with a boldness that said she knew where his mind had gone. She was a concerto in fall colors -- rich brown hair, brown eyes. But what browns! Streaks of gold glinted among the dark mahogany strands. Her eyes sparkled, the lightest brown swirled with darker specks of... gold? Cinnamon? They were alive with humor and sexual awareness.

  “Chastity,” he croaked. “What misguided fool named you so inadequately? You should be called Persephone... Aphrodite!”

  The vision smiled, revealing a deep-seated dimple in her left cheek. “I am pleased to meet you at long last, sir,” she said, extending a gloved hand. “Aphrodite? Wasn’t she the goddess of love?”

  “She was... and Persephone was a golden-eyed goddess beautiful enough to tempt the lord of the dead.”

  He took her hand and held it for an inappropriate length of time, noting she made no protest. Turning her hand palm up, he deliberately brushed an openmouthed kiss on the exposed skin of her wrist, above her glove, tasting her with the tip of his tongue. Smiling against her skin, he felt her gasp, felt the involuntary press of her hand against the caressing movement of his lips.

  “But you said... ‘At long last.’ My lady...?” he queried, unable to tear his eyes from her speaking gaze.

  “I despaired of ever finding you,” she informed him, her words coming low and airy, as if she could not catch her breath. Beneath the veil of her evening gown, her chest rose and fell, her breasts quivered, and her nipples sharpened against the confines of her tight bodice. “For years, I have seen you in my dreams --”

  “Are you sure you do not mean nightmares?” Chezann snapped, anger cracking his voice. His harsh words shocked Dare back into a realization of their surroundings. He lifted his head and met his brother’s gaze.

  The young earl glared at him, his handsome face sullen with anger at his brother’s betrayal. He snarled. “I did not mean her for you, Dare!”

  “I know, C.C.,” Dare answered softly, turning his head to address his brother, but keeping his eyes locked with hers. “Yet, she is... mine.” As the words left him, he realized he spoke the truth. His hand tightened on Chastity’s slim fingers and felt hers squeeze back in an unconscious statement of reciprocal possession.

  “So you do make a habit of stealing women?” The soft-voiced taunt was a vicious attack, designed to hurt. It did.

  “Oh, Chezann,” Chastity cried, “how unworthy of you... and unfair. I warned you. I told you I could not love you.”

  The young earl had the grace to look shamefaced. “You told me you could love no New Britisher!”

  Chastity nodded. “True, but Darian always appeared so dark... I did not know he was New British.”

  “What is happening here?” Chezann demanded.

  “Damned if I know,” Dare admitted wryly. Running his left hand through his gleaming tresses, disarranging their ordered fall, he struggled against the tidal wave of desire surging through him for this woman. “C.C., I would not hurt you for the world, but... I cannot back away from this, from her. Not even for you.”

  Dare’s eyes met his brother’s, and the look in them caused the earl to suck in a shocked breath. “You bastard, you talk as if you know each other, as if you have a prior claim, yet I know you have never met. This is insane!”

  “No. This is a miracle,” the woman whispered, an enigmatic smile softening the lush lines of her mouth. She turned to Alicia, who had just come up, and her lips curled in a soft, dreamy smile. “Dare and I are going for a walk in the garden. Don’t wait up...”

  Chapter Three

  Dare led her down the marble steps into the shadowed realm of leaf and flower. He drew her into the heart of the garden where a maze -- its walls the dense, interwoven strands of tall bushes trimmed into fantastical shapes -- would shield their tryst.

  Wandering deep into the interior, they strolled until the sounds of the party faded away, and the crickets’ song was heard above the gurgling of a small fountain. She sank down onto a cool stone bench and spread her skirts, demurely covering her slippers.

  “Who are you and where are you from, angel?” Dare asked, walking over to her. “I cannot believe I could have missed you had you been here long.” He smiled at her. “Besides, you have a faint accent --?”

  “I was raised in New India. But that is of no real interest to you.” Chastity challenged, turning to him and placing one gloved hand on his arm. “You want to know what my lips feel like... what I taste like.”

  “Yes!” Dare agreed, dropping down beside her and sweeping her into his embrace. Bending her pliant body backwards, his lips dipped into the hollow of neck and shoulder, skimming the smooth exposed skin. He opened his mouth on her, repeating his earlier caress of tongue against warm flesh.

  She flung her head back, arching her breasts into the solid expanse of his chest, offering up the banquet of her body. He eagerly accepted her invitation, heart beating out of sync as he skimmed the tops of her breasts.

  With breathless anticipation, he pulled back long enough to tug off her gloves. He wanted to feel her skin-to-skin, and the gloves were a hindrance.

  With a sigh, she sank her fingers into the thick, black mass of his vibrant hair and he reciprocated, combing his fingers through her silky strands, glad she’d gone against fashion and worn it down.

  “I have felt your phantom lips on mine forever, but you always left me wanting. Let my feel you now. Kiss me... kiss me...” she urged, using her hold to tug his head down to hers.

  With a groan of excitement, Dare resisted her, determined to make her wait, make her as hungry as he. Stealing little nips and sips of her flesh, he nibbled his way up the column of her throat, his hands busy at the bodice of her gown. Triumph swelled through him when his hands at last touched warm, pliant flesh, and his fingers opened and closed over the full mounds of her breasts, plumping them, rubbing his thumbs over the rising crests.

  A frisson of heat unfurled low in his belly when Chastity moaned with need and growing arousal. Her hand lowered to boldly cup the steely length of his penis, her fingers testing the rampant surge through the sturdy cloth of hi
s pants.

  Dare melded their mouths in a fiery kiss, his tongue speaking within the sweet, dark cavity of her mouth. It was an ancient language promising dark delights and endless ecstasies.

  Beneath his studied assault, Chastity mewled and moaned and melted, drenching the fingers that had forged their way up the smooth flesh of her thigh to pry open the pouty lips of her sex.

  He found her wet and creamy. “Oh, gods!” he groaned. “You are so responsive!” His praise was muffled against her swollen lips. He swirled a finger high up inside her tight passage. “So drenched and juicy... I want a taste, need to see if you are as sweet as you smell. Will you let me?” he asked, introducing another long finger into her honeyed depths and stirring, stirring.

  Chastity squirmed on his hand, her inner muscles spasming on his marauding fingers. “I shall explode!” she warned him, her breath coming faster, harsher. “I feel as if a tumultuous storm is battering me from the inside out.”

  “No storms yet. This is too sweet to rush.”

  Dare eased his movements, backed down the pleasure, lengthening it, drawing it out. He eased his fingers out of her and stripped off his coat. Spreading it on the broad bench, he settled her back and went to his knees beside her.

  She bit her lip as his hands coasted up her thighs, lifting her skirts. He met her eyes as the material bunched around her waist. Even in the dark he could see the wash of warm color change her face from white to pale pink cream. He stretched up to caress her mouth with his, tongue dipping and sliding along the slick surface behind her lips.

  With a rough groan of need, Dare moved back down. His hands went before, pressing against the top of her thighs, widening her legs so he could fit between them. Against the soft, smooth, protected flesh near her womanhood, his face and hands felt rough and clumsy.

  Brazen and bold, he opened her, his thumbs pressing the feminine lips apart. Leaning close, he took a deep breath, inhaling the sweet, musky aroma of her feminine scent. “Mhmm, you smell divine -- creamy and hot and mouthwatering. I can’t wait any longer. I have to have a taste...” He bent to her, his mouth hungry and hard against her tender skin.

  She moaned, fingers burrowing through his hair to tug at his scalp. He loved the feel of her hands on him, urging him on. He nibbled on the sweet knot of flesh exposed by his unveiling hands, and her hips bucked. Tightening his hands on her, he held her down and fluttered his tongue in her welling juice, thrilling at the liquid proof of her desire.

  “You taste delicious, darling. I’m going to slurp you up.”

  Gasping, Chastity grabbed her skirts, flattened them so she could watch him feasting on her, lapping the length of her weeping opening, taking her tender labia into his mouth.

  “Guardian angel-serpents, that feels good!” Her body undulated, unable to hold still under his ministrations. She eased herself back on her elbows, bringing her legs up to clasp his head between her knees.

  The sweet smell of her aroused flesh drove Dare beyond control. Hands palming her bottom, he lifted her hips, brought her to his mouth, and thrust his tongue deep into her churning passage.

  A groan welled up in Chassy’s throat, the sound rising like pleasurable agony. The vibration of her extremity rumbled in his chest, and he attempted to devour her, to drown her in sensation. He tongued and bit and drew and nibbled until she writhed beneath him, whimpering as she fell into a grinding completion.

  He felt the explosions under her skin tightening her tendons and bowing her back. Her belly muscles rippled and she screamed her release, falling boneless beneath his ministrations.

  Reluctantly, he dropped one more kiss on her quivering pussy before moving up to cover her lips with his, cutting off her scream before others could hear and investigate. Leaning his forehead against hers, he drew in several deep breaths, fighting to control the almost overwhelming urge to open his pants and release the huge hard-on throbbing behind the tight cloth.

  His earlier need to fuck had transmuted into a need to be within this one woman. His body wanted no other. He greatly feared she’d just ruined him for any other woman.

  * * * * *

  “You didn’t enjoy that as much as I did,” Chastity said when she regained her sanity. “Let me ease you,” she offered, placing her small hand on his still rock-hard penis.

  Dare captured her hand, held it prisoner against his begging erection. “This is not the time or place.” He groaned, clenching his jaw, grinding his teeth at the tight, hot pressure compressing his cock. Her hand around him felt beyond good.

  “Much as I would enjoy taking you up on your generous offer,” he whispered with a wry smile, wishing he dared take advantage of her willingness, “we’ve been gone too long. I’m surprised some chaperone hasn’t already come looking for you.”

  Unable to believe he’d actually refused the chance to have his cock sucked, he shook his head while he eased Chastity’s skirts down, assisted her in righting herself, and helped her to her feet. And was there to catch her when her legs gave way, his strong arms supporting her slight figure.

  With a shaky laugh, Chastity clung to him. “See how you make my knees weak?” she teased, trailing a hand down his chest to his groin and giving his penis a generous squeeze. “You were miraculous. Thank you.”

  Groaning, Dare took her rounded derriere in both hands and pressed her into his jutting hardness, trapping her hand between them. He took her mouth in a desperate kiss that swept them both into a dark, climactic paradise. He felt her shiver, felt her melting, reforming around his jutting hard-on. He felt her in his soul. “I want you... need you...”

  She gasped into his mouth. “I want you, too... so much!”

  “Come to me soon! Tonight,” he demanded.

  “How and where?”

  “Come to my rooms. I’ll make the arrangements. Will you come?”

  Chastity leaned against him and gave a shaky laugh. “I already have and no doubt I shall again!”

  His laughter joined hers. Entranced with her, bewitched by her, he was amazed at how she lifted his dark spirits. Simply by existing, she had changed his beliefs about debutantes and marriage in less than an hour’s time. She was right. It was miraculous. She was miraculous! “Chastity --”

  She placed a hand over his lips. “Call me Chassy.”

  “Chassy... Aphrodite... Persephone... my goddess! May I ask you an important question?”

  Chastity’s eyes lit up. “Before you ask, will you permit me to ask something?”

  “Of course, my dear, whatever you wish.” Dare smiled reassuringly. She had probably heard the rumors about him. He had never before attempted to defend himself. His pride hadn’t allowed it. But for her, he would put the old stories to rest. And he could assure her she needn’t worry he would continue to keep mistresses after their marriage. With her generous and passionate responses, she’d convinced him her erotic fire would supply all the warmth he would ever need.

  Chastity eased out of Dare’s arms. “I’ve heard the rumors about your brother and his fiancée --”

  Ah, just as I thought. He reluctantly let her go. “I can expla--”

  She held up a restraining hand when Dare made to interrupt. “I do not believe a word of that silly story.” Her brisk, matter-of-fact words convinced him of her sincerity. Before he could thank her for the gift of her trust, she continued.

  “I know about your resulting financial situation. I’m an heiress. I can make things easier for you, if you’d let me.”

  Taking a deep breath, she clasped her hands in front of her. “The solution to your dilemma is simple. All you have to do is accept my offer of carte blanche.”

  Chapter Four

  Body still so sensitive that her clinging nightgown was an irritant, Chassy flopped on her bed, fulminating thoughts running through her head. She was too heated and sexually frustrated to sleep, too angry at Dare for leaving her like this. How could he refuse her? How could he leave her aching and hurting like this?

  With a disgru
ntled sigh, she rolled over and onto her feet. Tossing off the nightgown, she went to the window and pushed the casing wide, letting the night breeze in to caress her hot skin. It didn’t help.

  She’d hoped for something more exciting, but she would make do with her own hands. She’d learned to masturbate at an early age, driven by the erotic dreams of a phantom lover who touched her with hands of fire. There were times when she burned, melted from the scorching heat of lust. Sometimes, the weather itself seemed to goad her into recklessness. Lying back on the bed, her hands moved in tandem with her memories...

  In New India, during the seasonal heat, the land sweltered under the two suns of Paradyse. The damp, clammy air pressed close and heavy against her skin. At such times, she took to her room. Stripping off her clothes, she’d sluice her skin with the cool, room-tempered water in her washing basin.

  The water always felt silky and slick running over her heated flesh, cooling her and heating her at the same time. Hands cupped, she would lift her bounty above her head and allow the coolness to flow down her face and over her shoulders. Each shining drop glistened in the afternoon lights, lending the sheen of diamonds to her skin.

  After she’d rubbed the silken moisture into her thirsty skin, she would bring the basin to her bedside and again dip her hands in the basin. Lying back, she’d spread her legs and bring her dripping fingers to the hottest, aching part of her. Fingers swirling, she would dip and rub, dip and rub, working the cool into her tight folds until the heat swallowed up the coolness. Liquid met liquid, and she smoothed the slippery fluid over the small knot of nerves that rested at the apex of her thighs.

  Languid minutes would pass as she pleasured herself, rising on a drifting cloud of sensation that threatened to dump her into a cauldron of boiling delight. Fighting for breath, she would bring her knees up, hugging her hand between her thighs as she stroked and stroked, fingers slipping in the wet delta of her sex. Hips responding to the cadence of her pistoning hand, she lifted into her circling movements, melting as the summer heat invaded the room, crawled under her skin.