Unto Death

by Lena West

  His double life had begun.

  7

  I ought to have listened to the friends who warned me she was only interested in my money; but I was blinded by my overwhelming desire to possess her. To bind her to me forever. Mine, and mine alone. Unto Death as we vowed.

  Ah, Death! You beckon …

  “Don't take off your bonnet, Lu. It's still broad daylight.”

  Thoughts of his double life had unsettled Stephen. Lying just didn't come naturally to him. So, staving off the inevitable, he guided Lucy back through the door they'd just entered, on the heels of the departing porter who'd carried up their luggage.

  “Let's go for a walk and see the sights.”

  Lucy almost told him she was quite conversant with the sights of Newcastle.

  She'd often visited the town, both by river-boat, and more recently, by the new steam train running between Newcastle and Maitland. The railway, so quick and convenient, was being rapidly extended to towns further up the Hunter Valley. Soon it would even be possible to travel as far as Scone, the nearest town to Eden Vale.

  Only, suddenly shy of the alternative to a walk - enforced intimacy with her new husband within the narrow confines of their hotel room - Lucy withheld her objection. She longed to take that ultimate step into true intimacy but was suddenly daunted by its enormity. Especially since Stephen showed no signs of impatience. Quite the reverse, in fact, which was not at all encouraging. Somewhat downcast, she took his proffered arm and together they set out on a tour of the abundance of shops to be found along the length of Hunter Street. A tour neither was the least interested in, although Stephen valiantly kept up a running commentary.

  Back at the hotel in time to change for dinner, Stephen, still clad in his wedding finery, laid his hat on the tallboy.

  “I don't need to change,” he said. “Just let me tidy myself and I'll meet you downstairs.”

  Lucy heaved a huge sigh of relief when the door closed behind him.

  Why hadn't either Mama or Grandmama instructed her on managing the awkwardness of undressing in front of a husband? She was equally relieved after dinner when Stephen sent her upstairs alone to prepare herself for bed; this time using the excuse of stepping outside to smoke one of the pungent cigarillos he enjoyed of an evening.

  Now what do I do? Lucy wondered, standing beside the bed.

  Was she supposed to lie, waiting, in the bed like a pagan sacrifice? She eyed the daunting piece of furniture askance. Or should she sit in the armchair beside the window, like Penelope scanning the horizon for Odysseus?

  Yet another problem she had neglected to acquire a solution to. Shy of appearing immodestly over-eager, she elected to slip her brand new lacy peignoir over her equally new, daringly low-cut, nightgown, both part of her trousseau of new, more mature fashions than she had previously worn, and wait. She took a book from her overnight bag and, curled up in the armchair, pretended to read it.

  Stephen employed the time it took to smoke two cigarillos to mentally prepare himself for the task ahead. Considering himself ready, he trekked back to the bridal suite; to his bride.

  Rising from her chair at the rattle of his key in the lock, Lucy dropped her book onto the chair, and took a tiny step towards him as he entered the room. Long curls cascading over her shoulders, clad in delicate, figure hugging silk and lace, she was a picture to gladden the heart of any bridegroom, even one as reluctant as Stephen Fortescue.

  Feeling his body leap to attention, Stephen finally relaxed, remembering from times before Isabella, that in this arena at least, love wasn't a necessary prerequisite to performance. For now, he'd forget about his double life; forget all about Isabella; and concentrate his energies on pleasing his bride.

  As long as he remembered to put Lucy's needs before his own, he was sure he'd be fine.

  Taking Lucy's hands in his, Stephen held her arms out to the sides, making a show of admiring her ensemble.

  “My goodness. Where's Lu-lu gone? Your loveliness takes my breath away, Lucy.”

  Smiling, he kissed her on the brow. When she raised uncertain eyes, he transferred his caress to her lips, awakening a warm response.

  “It's just me, Lu. Your old playmate, Stephen,” he murmured. “You aren't scared of me, are you?”

  It was as easy as that.

  Hearing Stephen’s whispered reassurance, Lucy shed her nervousness. Of course, she wasn't afraid of Stephen. She loved him. Nothing he did could hurt her. She stretched up on tippy-toes to return his kiss. Slipping her hands free of his loose hold, she slid them round his neck.

  Gently caressing her arms and back, Stephen took charge. As he trailed soft little kisses across her temples and along the sensitive line of her jaw, Lucy breathed in the heady mingled aromas of tobacco and cologne, with another component underlying these which she recognised as being Stephen's own distinctively masculine scent.

  Dizzy with longing, she felt she would explode with impatience if he didn't kiss her properly, and soon. Her tingling, restless fingers threaded themselves through his thick hair.

  His gentle teasing became more intense, his lips finally closing firmly over hers. This time Stephen didn't have to coax her to open to him. Lucy, humming with satisfaction, remembered, and was before him.

  Stroking his tongue over hers and caressing the tender lining of her mouth, he stoked the fires already bursting into ardent flame, his care rewarded when her tongue stroked lightly along the side of his, mimicking his own moves.

  A low moan reached Lucy's ears, a moan she realised came from her own mouth. Her hands plucked frantically at Stephen's coat. She ached for the feel of his bare skin but was frustrated by the layers of fabric denying her that pleasure.

  When Lucy's muffled cries reached Stephen's ears, he changed tactics, easing back to reach between them, brushing his fingertips backwards and forwards over the tip of first one nipple, then the other.

  Lucy gasped, pressing herself against him as pressure built and built within her.

  Stephen enclosed a sweet globe within his hand. Squeezing and fondling, his lustful urges straining at the tight rein he held them on, he attained his next goal.

  Just when she felt she couldn't stand another moment of this divine torture, Lucy cried out as a sweet release swept through her.

  Stephen released her breast and captured its mate to begin all over again, driving her even higher. Lucy was on fire as never before, a yearning ache spreading from the secret place at the apex of her thighs.

  She wanted … She didn't know what she wanted; only that if Stephen didn't satisfy this desperate need soon, she'd surely die. When he returned to ravishing her mouth, she didn't notice the ties on her gown being loosened.

  “Oh, Stephen,” she gasped, feeling his lips trailing over her collarbone to end up, hot and tantalising, in the hollow at the base of her throat.

  “What do you want, Lu?”

  “I don't know. Something … More. I want more.”

  “Like this?”

  He pushed the silk right off her shoulder, exposing her breast to his seeking mouth. He sucked the nipple into the hot, moist cavern, and she ignited, burning with a new passion.

  “Is that what you wanted?”

  “Yes!”

  “Do you still want more?”

  Lucy realised the ache at the core of her being demanding appeasement, was even stronger than before. Her need so great it was almost pain.

  “Yes! I want it all,” she begged. “Stephen, please …”

  He slid her garments down around her body, till they pooled on the floor at her feet, his eyes feasting on freshly exposed delights. Her skin was translucent, smooth as the finest silk, flushed a soft pink with desire. Stephen drew in his breath, awed by so much innocent beauty.

  Knowing he was the first, the only one, to taste the delights of Lucy's body acted as a powerful aphrodisiac. It took every ounce of his willpower not to toss her down on the floor and ravish her on the spot. He rested his head between her breast
s, breathing deeply. Once more in control, he let his mouth travel the path his eyes had already taken.

  He didn't know how long he could keep this up. He was hot and heavy, throbbing with the need to have his fill of this sweet prize.

  Damp, open-mouthed kisses heated Lucy's pale skin, Stephen's tongue dipping to lave her navel, rousing her to cries of pleasure. The tension coiling within her body built to a new crescendo. When he returned his attentions to her sensitised breasts, Lucy felt herself shatter, then drift in the most wonderful, loose-limbed lethargy.

  Coming to his feet Stephen picked Lucy up, laying her in the middle of the turned-back sea of white sheets, a glorious sensual feast for him alone. She would have pulled him down with her, but he stepped back and began hauling the clothes from his own body with scant regard for buttons.

  Wide-eyed, Lucy drank in the unfolding vision before her, revelling in each newly revealed acre of firm, male flesh. When he pushed his trousers down and his rampant manhood sprang free, she whimpered, but not in fear.

  The muscles at the base of her belly tightened urgently as that wondrous tension began building again, at the mere sight. She'd never dreamt what a joy to the senses was a naked, fully aroused man! She forgot to feel shy at her own nakedness in her lustful admiration of her husband's. Lucy was so glad at that moment to be a married woman with every right to enjoy these pleasures. These, and the ones yet to come.

  Stephen flung himself down beside her, feeling the tremor that ran from her head to her toes when Lucy felt the intoxicating slide of his lightly furred bare chest against her soft, equally bare skin.

  It galvanised him into repeating the lessons already learned all over again, this time without the restricting impediment of clothes separating them. The urgent slide of flesh against flesh stirred the woman beneath him into a raging inferno. This time he transported them both to new heights, reaching down to part the moist folds between her legs.

  Shocked at first, until she learned how very, very good it felt, Lucy drew back, only to urge him to still greater intimacies a moment later. This time when she shattered it was even more satisfying. She lay panting, feeling peace stealing over her once more, until she realised it had only been her.

  Each time. Stephen had forgone his own release to secure hers. There was still at least one more vitally important lesson to be learnt, and she was dreadfully impatient to learn it.

  Heart bursting with love, she reached for him, shyly stroking his body as he had hers. Scattering languorous kisses over all that delicious male flesh as he had over hers, she felt the surge of power that was hers to wield as she would; and revelled in it.

  This was the feminine power Grandmama had spoken of.

  Lucy felt she could play this game forever. Until she felt that amazing tension coiling inside her yet again; and grew impatient. She couldn't wait; didn't want to wait; not one more minute; but was unsure of how to go about the next step.

  Stephen let her play as long as he could. As long as he could withstand his own desperate needs. It was nowhere near long enough. Forever would be too short, only he couldn't wait another minute. He could feel his control slipping dangerously. All too soon, he rolled Lucy onto her back, rising above her.

  Parting her knees, he positioned himself between legs she spread willingly at his urging. A few more gentling kisses and caresses then the heavy head of his manhood was probing the soft flesh of her entrance.

  Slowly, he surged inside, feeling her hot, wet passage stretch to accommodate his size, until he encountered a flimsy barrier. With one hard thrust he tore it asunder, sheathing his full length within her.

  Lucy gasped, recoiling at the sharp stabbing pain, and Stephen held still, allowing her to absorb the feel of him within her body. She was so wonderfully tight, he had to grit his teeth to maintain control. In moments, pain receding then forgotten, Lucy relaxed, clasping him with her inner muscles. It felt so right to feel his hard length buried within her softness. She felt on the verge of a great revelation.

  “Stephen,” she implored, “I want … More. I want it all. Don't hold back any longer. Please.”

  Beginning slowly, what followed soon became an inexorable, headlong gallop into oblivion, Lucy's body instinctively taking up the rhythm. When she felt the now familiar tension building to a climax, she cried out.

  “You too, Stephen.” she urged. “I want you with me this time.”

  “All the way, Lu.” he panted.

  “I'm coming with you, all the way.” When Lucy burst into the starry void, Stephen followed, half a heartbeat behind.

  The two of them drifted for an eon, slowly spiralling back to earth.

  Satisfied almost to the point of feeling smug, Lucy stroked a lethargic hand down her husband's flank, at the same time pressing a grateful kiss to his shoulder, the only spot she could reach without moving. She felt she never wanted to move an inch, ever again.

  She wanted to do it all again, immediately.

  Is it always like this? she wondered.

  When Grandmama had told her of the things her husband would do to her, she'd been scared, slightly revolted even, and yet excited at the same time. Now she'd experienced it for herself, she couldn't wait to do it all again, although she still thought it would be scary and revolting without love. She couldn't imagine doing this with anyone other than Stephen.

  “Stephen darling,” Lucy murmured, “you were incredible. I never knew it was possible to experience such wonder.”

  Her nerve ends still tingled. Lucy blushed to realise their naked bodies, slick with sweat, were still joined, her husband a warm heavy weight pinning her to the bed. She stretched a little, enjoying the intimate contact in the aftermath of their cataclysmic orgasm.

  “You were so fearless, Lucy. So totally with me all the way. It's you who is incredible. I never expected you to enjoy making love. Not at first.”

  “Silly.”

  Preening at his generous praise, she stroked his cheek, feeling the rasp of stubble against her palm. “How could I not enjoy anything so exciting when I had the perfect teacher?” Stephen gloried in her praise.

  No-one else he'd been with had been half as complimentary. Smug as a satisfied tomcat, he almost purred.

  They drifted off to sleep, curled together with Lucy's dainty hand spread possessively over Stephen's heart, rousing to make love again before their early breakfast call.

  Showing his consideration yet again, Stephen washed and dressed first behind the screen in the corner of the room, leaving her in privacy while he went off to find a porter to haul their luggage downstairs. Breakfast was a hurried affair; the tide was on the turn and the Yarra Yarra, the steamship they were travelling to Sydney on, waited for no-one. Fortunately, the wharf was only a short distance from the hotel.

  Hurrying after their porter, they had their bags stowed in time to go back on deck and watch the crew cast off. Shoulder to shoulder, their arms round each other’s' waists, they watched the riverbanks gliding by. There was a little turbulence as they exited the Hunter's mouth, then, with a strong following sea, it was plain sailing all the way down the coast till they turned between the Heads into Sydney Harbour. They berthed in time for a late dinner followed by a second night of pure bliss.

  8

  I ought to have taken my friends' advice and bedded the evil, damned witch. I'd have got her out of my system. Freed myself from her toils. But no, not me. I treated her courteously, as if she possessed all the womanly virtues.

  Fool that I am, I paid her the ultimate in compliments.

  I married her.

  Lucy felt happiness bubbling through her whole being with the effervescence of the champagne with which she and Stephen had celebrated their first month of marriage the evening before. Sitting alone on the beach in the shade of a tree, she let her eyes rest adoringly on her husband.

  Silhouetted against the blue sky, his rod in his hands, he fished from the rocks further along the beach. She let her mind wander idly over the eve
nts of that month.

  The days of their honeymoon had overflowed with pleasures of every variety. Several times they sailed on the harbour in the company of Stephen's cousins, whose father, his Uncle Robert, had followed his older brother to New South Wales.

  Under glorious azure skies they picnicked in the Botanical Gardens, viewing the magnificence of Sydney Harbour from Mrs Macquarie's Chair. On other days, they went on sight-seeing expeditions either alone or with friends.

  And they plundered the shops; Stephen declaring he couldn't possibly allow his wife to return from a trip to Sydney empty-handed. His generosity soon had Lucy in a giddy spin, and they added another trunk to their pile of luggage. Lucy's hands tingled, remembering the luxurious feel of the lovely textures of silk, satin and lace. She fervently hoped there would be sufficient opportunity to wear her beautiful new gowns when they were home on 'Eden Vale'.

  After dinner, they often danced to the band at their hotel, or visited the theatre. Their nights continued the bliss of the first one, Stephen introducing her to an array of carnal delights that never ceased to amaze and thrill her. Becoming braver, she dared to take her turn leading him into those pleasures she most particularly enjoyed; repaying him for his care of her by visiting her newfound skills upon him. Just thinking about it made her body heat anew and a blush colour her hot cheeks.

  Last week, with their holiday rapidly coming to its close, they had caught the ferry to Manly.

  They had stayed for several days at a guesthouse right on the Esplanade. It had been such fun. Listening to the German band playing on the ferry, Stephen had swung her into a lively polka. The other passengers had smiled indulgently and drawn back to make room for them. Without realising it Lucy hummed the tune, her body swaying in time to the music in her head.