by Lucy Langton
His hands ran down her waist, tracing the outline of her slender figure. Her skin burned beneath the thin fabric that separated his fingers from her skin.
Her lips were soft and sweet on his, his tongue parted her ever-open lips, and her gasp of surprise sent fire to his loins.
She tossed her head back, allowing him to explore her skin with his lips.
She let out a moan, and when his hand traced the outline of her bosom, a smile ran up his lips at the sight of her face. He was surely just beginning. With his hands still running over her slender shape …damn what a body …he thought, and with that he deepened the kiss like it was his last, while she ran her hands over his manly figure … Oh, she wanted him now …He picked her up, making sure he took charge of this very moment. Hearts beating, lips smacking …oh, what a moment and not any chance to spare …with him silently hoping for no distractions …he loosened the ribbon binding the dress together, and pushed the fabric down her skin, as his lips ran down her shoulders.
“This… My Lord… I suppose we should retire…” she managed to gasp through laboured breathing from the overwhelming pleasure.
“Is that so?” He took her left breast in his hand and gasped at how soft it felt. He took his time to feel the soft skin, kneading and massaging gently, and watching her nipples harden at every move…still playing with them, she let out a deep moan.
“Oh!” the moan rolled off her lips. It was getting hot …she felt something poking her below her waist. She let her hands fall and “My heavens!” she gasped, eyes widening in shock and pleasure at the sight of his manhood. She had read about the phallus of a man, but she had never touched or seen one, and she was certain this one was a sight to behold.
Her cheeks reddened as she took it in her hands
What a warm creature; it resembled that of a mighty stallion she thought, and the pleasure of him sucking on her nipples brought her mind back into reality as his tongue grazed her flesh and his groans of pleasure could be heard.
Her moans got louder, and with every passing second, she felt something she had never experienced. Something she couldn’t describe coming from inside her. She bit her lips as she felt herself reaching the peak of her pleasure. Her moans turned to screams of awe, his lips met hers, leaving her swollen bosom satisfied.
She fell down on the floor unable to move, her body shaken from the overwhelming sensation of lust. Her thighs glistened from the warm liquid that dripped down from the juncture of her thighs. Words could not do justice in describing the euphoria of climaxing; it was frightening, and the most pleasurable thing she had felt in her life.
She could not quite gather her thoughts correctly as her brain felt rather fuzzy and light-headed.
His voice brought her back to reality; the only thing she was certain of was that this was only beginning, and she felt the night getting more and more exciting.
Getting back on her feet, he took in the full sight of her, her skin glistening beneath the candlelight as her red locks framed her face; if no one had seen Eve, he had tonight.
His shaft threatened to burst as he got hold of her, lifting her and laying her on the bed. He felt the heat within the soft molds of her womanhood, such beauty so heavenly he could not comprehend. She got hold of his manly beast and started to rub on it in desperation from the hands of lust. Her lack of experience was evident in every stroke, but it still pleasured him. He positioned himself on top of her with her legs spread apart, and his shaft rubbed her walls as if seeking permission and realising this was her first time, contrary to what he believed.
“Do you want me to go on Isabel?” he muttered to her, wanting this to be completely mutual between both of them.
“Yes, William,” she gasped, “make me a woman. I need to feel like a woman.” She was certain she wanted it at this moment, with him, and no one else.
Lubricating his shaft he set in slowly and easy, checking her face to see how badly it hurt.
Her mouth opened agape as his fullness sank inside her. A groan made its way out of her mouth as he began thrusting in and out of her.
A small smile of satisfaction danced across his lips as he took in her face of pleasure; it would be a sight he could not forget in a long time.
He came out and then in a split second thrusted in; she gasped, her eyes open to the fullest, and heart beating faster, she bit down on her lips and let out a deep moan as he repeated the same thing, increasing his tempo. Sounds of slurping could be heard as he kept penetrating her, his mouth was agape but not a sound departed from it, just the slurping sound of his shaft hitting the very wet door of her femininity. He groaned at her tightness, never wanting this to end, and praying he did not reach the peak early.
She had never felt such desire for a man as she did now; he slowed down his pace, allowing both of then to savour the moment of their copulation.
She felt her senses depart when he increased his pace again, diving in faster and harder, as she reach the climax of her climb, more intensely than her first time. Her body shook as her liquids ran down her thighs.
She pulled him closer, kissing him one more time and taking in his taste. He fell on the bed beside her, as they gazed into each other’s eyes. They both wanted more, and as if they read each other’s mind like an open book, they laughed at the thought.
“You, my darling Isabel, are quite exquisite,” he whispered to her hazily.
Her face reddened at the compliment, and uncertain of what to do, she covered her face with her hands.
He kissed them with a laugh and gathered her in his arms as they both surrendered to the soothing arms of sleep.
Chapter 24
She woke up the next morning, turning to feel him beside her, but he was gone. A slight pang of hurt crossed her chest, that was until she saw the note on his pillow.
It read:
My darling Isabel,
I did not want to wake you from your slumber, hence the reason for my early departure.
On another note, you look quite exquisite while sleeping.
Love William.
Heat rose up her cheeks as she read the note. The Lord was truly thoughtful. The butterflies danced in her stomach as the day already seemed to brighten up for her.
Isabel prepared her bath, still very much sore from the night’s experience. She took her time allowing the warm water to soothe her newly deflowered folds. She hummed to herself as she dressed up for the day, with high hopes for Lady Beatrice’s recovery.
She stepped out of her room and noticed the tension in the air. Her instincts immediately sent her running towards Lady Beatrice’s room. She muttered a word of prayer to God that the worst had not happened.
She opened the door to see the Baron sitting on the chair next to his sister’s bed; he had already donned on his coat and brown clothing, and his hair was combed neatly to the back, a sight she could moan at, except with his countenance; he was battling the urge to cry.
The Lady’s body was extremely pale, and the stillness made her assume the worst had happened.
“Oh Beatrice!” Isabel exclaimed running to her side, trying to shake her awake and feel her temperature. Despite the disturbance and Isabel’s wailings, the girl didn’t stir or wake up.
She didn’t want to believe it; unconsciously her fingers held her wrist to check for a pulse.
“She is still breathing, thank heavens!” she exclaimed with tears already flowing down her eyes.
Life without Beatrice had already become a distant mirage; she was not sure how she could bear the pain of losing another loved one in so short a time. Her parents, who meant everything in the world to her had already departed not too long ago; would the cold hands of death not leave her alone for once? Could mercy not pass her the gates of her heart and spare the ones she loved? The questions ran through her head as she forced herself to think positive thoughts more and more.
The Baron did not trust his legs to stand up and walk out of the room for air despite how badly he knew he ne
eded it. He ran his hands through his hair, gripping it with much fury and pain. His red-rimmed eyes released the tears he had been holding back. The relief they brought was nothing compared to the grief that came with seeing his beloved sister in this condition.
Her relapse had never gotten to this stage; she had never battled it for this long. His beloved younger sister lay on the bed fighting for her life, and he prayed to a God he had grown to believe despised him for mercy on the innocent soul. It should have been him, not her. She had so much life left in her; she was barely a woman and the prospect of her going to join his parents shook him to the bones; tears ran down his eyes as he bowed his head at the thought of being more alone in this world. Would his parents not look down from the heavens and roll in their graves at his helplessness?
He wiped his tears with the back of his hands and walked to his chambers. A mix of anger and pain held his chest; he found a bottle of wine and poured it into a cup with shaky hands, and letting out a growl he flung the bottle at the wall, as well as the cup. The sound of the metal hitting the wall did little to bring him relief as he picked up anything he found on his desk and flung it across his room.
He flung the papers across the room, and the bed linens, hoping it would give him some sort of relief as the shards of glass did when colliding with the hard wall.
A knock on the door interrupted his actions.
“Come in,” he managed to say with a shaky voice.
“My Lord,” Rachel greeted, then stepped inside the room.
“What is it? Is there any news about my sister?” he asked expectantly, wiping his tears and running his fingers through his hair for some sort of composure.
“No, My Lord, I’m afraid her condition remains the same as it was when you left the room.”
“So what do you want?” he snapped.
“Nothing, My Lord. I came to extend my condolences. Lady Beatrice has always been a wonderful soul; I hope she recovers soon.”
“Thank you; I hope so too.”
“I have been thinking about this occurrence recently.” She started, making sure the door was shut behind them. “This cannot have happened without any cause.”
“However do you mean? My sister has been sick for years and her condition got worse.”
“I mean, Lady Beatrice has never had this type of illness before, and a condition such as this one could not have happened without a change in something or a particular someone who may not wish your sister well.”
“You think someone under this household wishes my sister ill?”
“It’s a thought, My Lord; maybe such hatred drove such a person to try to kill her by poisoning her.”
“Would you not be the one in charge of my sister’s meals? How could such have happened?”
“For the past few weeks, Lady Beatrice has not been allowing me to handle her meals; it has been her new friend that has been taking care of such, which is why she might be the only cause of such calamity.”
“I do not believe this ma’am; Isabel would never do such a thing. She loves my sister as her own.”
His defensiveness about her made her stomach churn and the hate for her rose; nevertheless, the seed of doubt would be planted, and that would be enough to cause a fight between them allowing her plan to fall into place.
“It’s just a suspicion, My Lord, not everyone wishes you well.”
“Enough! I would hear no more of this again, is that clear?”he snapped at her. The image of the Isabel he had come to love was very different from what she painted, yet he could not doubt the possibility of it being true.
“Yes My Lord,” she said then left the room, hiding the small smile that would creep up her face at the victory she knew she had gained.
William felt he could trust Rachel, as she had been with them for over five years, but he wasn’t sure. He didn’t know what to think at the moment.
He thought to himself about the many opportunities Isabel had to poison his sister; logically she had every opportunity from the day she started talking to Beatrice. Her motive could have been revenge for her brother, but that did not make sense either, they had buried the hatchet earlier, had they not?
It would not have been the first time people had betrayed him or tried to take advantage of his emotions and kind heart. For this very reason he made sure to establish himself as a beast before men and keep that shield up for as long as possible; until she came. She scattered his walls and left him in a puddle of need; he had never been so vulnerable around anyone before her, and he feared falling in love with her clouded his judgement.
Love, he had fallen in love with her. That was what had happened despite this dreadful situation, and he was certain that was the only thing pushing him forward. He had to be sure this was a lie; his heart wouldn’t bear such grief if it were true.
***
Isabel gasped as the Baron stormed into the room, his breathing was laboured, and his eyes a mix of hurt and confusion.
“My Lord …”
“Did you do this?” he snapped.
“I’m afraid I do not understand,” she said with the shock on her face.
“Did you poison my sister?” he asked, anger and pain rising his throat, someone needed to be held responsible for this dilemma.
“Lord William, did you hit your head? Are you sure you are alright?” she asked in disbelief. There had to be a reason why he would even think such for a split second.
“I am perfectly fine, Miss Montgomery, now I demand an answer.”
“How dare you accuse me of such? Lady Beatrice is like a sister to me, and I could never hurt even a strand of her hair,” she replied, the hurt registering on her face. “Do you think so vile of me, William? That I would inflict such harm on someone, let alone a friend?” The tears ran down her cheeks as she used a hand to wipe it away violently.
“That was …”The sound of his name in her mouth cut through him like a knife.
“No, that’s exactly what you think, you think me so wicked that I would watch a sister suffer and die slowly. I would have thought we were more than this, that you would trust me even in the slightest bit. I would do anything in my power to protect her, and you have the audacity to blame me for such a wicked …”
He pulled her against himself and let his mouth dominate hers. This woman was driving him insane; his desperate need to confirm what he already knew pushed him to question her, and with her in his arms, he needed no other confirmation. At least with her in his arms, he had some sense of control, even if it was just the way he kissed her.
“Isabel, you have succeeded in driving me crazy, in making my heart beat for you only.” He kissed her again. “I can barely think around you anymore.”
“Will …” He caught her lips again.
“Don’t string me along; don’t play with my heart.” His lips went down to her neck. “You have won; you have me wrapped around your fingers,” he mumbled. Her scent was doing nothing to stop the explosions in his head.
“My Lord,” he said as the realisation of where she was came to her. “Lady Beatrice is here,” she finished, pulling away from him.
He cursed under his breath, remembering the incident that caused both of them scars, his more prominent than hers. How could he be so careless and unthoughtful?
“My dearest, I apologise, for everything. For accusing you of such a vile act, and acting without thinking again,” he said, dropping to his knees and hugging her thighs.
He mumbled a long trail of words pleading for her forgiveness for his impulsive behaviour.