by Lynne Silver
Damn it, he was. He wanted her with an intensity he’d never experienced and didn’t know how to handle. This was what Father had always warned him about. “Never give your heart to a woman, Pierce. They’ll grab you by the nuts and twist. Seek your pleasure wherever it can be found, but never with an honorable woman and most certainly never with your wife. You’ll give her your heart, and she’ll take your manhood away in exchange.”
He released a groan as he relinquished her breast. A powerful stroke took him and Helene back into shallow water, and he left her sitting alone in the water as he strode out to grab the blankets warmed by the sun.
“Come on and get dried off.” Don’t look at her. She’ll make a eunuch out of you. Perhaps just one glance. Damn it.
Helene’s large eyes glazed over with passion and now confusion. An unfamiliar pressure squeezed his heart. It was starting already. He was starting to care about her.
He’d disappointed her. She’d better get used to it; she had a lifetime of disappointment ahead of her if she expected him to dance like a monkey to her demands.
“Helene,” he said to rouse her out of the stupor. “Blanket, clothes.”
“Oh, of course.” She shook her head and droplets of water fell out of her loosely swept-up curls. She stepped into the blanket held open for her. “I thought…I thought we would do more.”
“More?” Even though he knew exactly what she meant. He’d love to do more. In the water, on the grass, up against that tree. “Come sit in the sun and warm up. Actually, I have a better idea. I will warm you up.” He could do this. Really. Just a little more touching to get her feeling what he was. He wasn’t giving her his heart. Just sex. He could do this. Truly.
Helene reclined into the grass letting the blanket fall off her shoulders. A tantalizing hint of her nipple peeked out.
“More,” he said pulling the blanket lower till her delectable navel showed. He braced himself on his hands and licked the underside of her breast then did the same to the other.
Helene’s head fell back and then she lay back fully on the ground granting him a better vantage point. He laved her breasts, nipples and then circled her belly with his tongue.
She pulled his head closer and subtly arched her hips toward him. Did she know what she was asking? Could she possibly have any idea how badly he wanted to part her curls and tongue her delicate nub? He paused, pondering this question while he rubbed the silky skin behind her knee.
“Pierce?”
Her sweet voice broke his reverie.
“Sorry, just thinking.”
“Well, stop thinking and continue what you were doing. I want…” She stopped, unable to give voice to her desires.
“You want the pleasure you found touching yourself,” he said, smiling at her.
She nodded in silence.
“I can give you that, but you have to trust me. Can you do that?”
He waited for what seemed like hours for her quiet agreement.
A quick kiss on the lips and one on each nipple then he kissed his way down her belly to grant her wishes. She moaned and shifted restlessly. With one hand, he parted her lips and touched her clitoris with the tip of his tongue.
“Pierce. Oh…my.”
Excellent, his wife had a sensual side begging to be unveiled.
He applied himself further to the task at hand, licking and delving deeper into her creamy passage, which grew damper by the second.
“Pierce…I had…no idea,” Helene moaned.
He inserted one finger and circled it. “Better than your own fingers?”
“Much.” Her thighs fell even farther apart inviting him deeper.
He ignored the ache stemming from his hard shaft rubbing against the even-harder ground and focused on Helene. Her pleasure. Her little whimpers that came faster and faster with each flick of his tongue and movement of his finger.
Soon she grew wet and wide enough for two of his fingers, and all remaining doubts about her virginity fled. She was so tight, squeezing his fingers together. He couldn’t wait to get his cock inside her.
“Play with your nipples,” he ordered, and, holy hell, his shaft hardened to excruciating torture when she obeyed.
“Pierce.” Helene said his name on an exhale.
She was getting closer if the tremors and moans coming from her were any indication. It was the most arousing thing he’d ever had the pleasure to witness, and he’d thought he’d seen it all.
How was he ever going to stop himself from finishing the way he wanted. Mounting her and slamming inside like one of his bulls in a nearby pasture. But he couldn’t. Not yet. They’d only been married a matter of days, and taking her seemed like a huge step suddenly, a true consummation of the marriage, a lifetime commitment.
How far could he take Helene on these pleasure lessons? Where would she be willing to go? As an experiment, he gently prodded the tight bud of her arse with one finger while continuing to lick and probe her with his tongue and other hand.
She broke. Screaming and writhing around him, she rode out the tempest, and he pushed her harder. No pauses or allowing for rest, he slowed his tongue on her clitoris, but fully inserted fingers into both her passages.
“Enough. I can’t take anymore.”
“Yes, you can,” he promised, and bent his head down once more. Soft, slow and smooth strokes of his tongue on her had her hips rising and riding his fingers hard. Good lord, she was the most delectable creature taking her pleasure and delighting in it.
When she finished tightening around his fingers a second time, he pulled out and they lay panting on the grass. His aching balls couldn’t take it anymore, so he slipped a hand down to massage himself. A few strokes and he released his seed like an untried lad.
They’d only begun to explore the depths of passion that ran between them, and it could take a lifetime to explore each other. But he couldn’t give her a lifetime. His parents had taught him that lesson too well. Life, and especially love, were fleeting. He dare not risk allowing Helene to see anything more of him than his sexual nature.
Ten minutes passed before a grumble had them both sitting up.
“Hungry?” he asked with a grin.
“Famished.”
“I think we’re just about through with our picnic, so let’s head back to see what Cook can scrounge up for us.”
They dressed leisurely, remounted and headed back, each lost in their own thoughts.
The rest of the day and evening passed in contentment. Pierce disappeared into his study leaving Helene free to explore her new home. Mrs. Tofty was only too happy to give her a tour and share gossip.
Unfortunately, she was closemouthed on the subject of Pierce, and Helene wanted more information. Needed more. Every minute spent with her husband revealed depths that hinted at humor, intelligence and passion.
If she could unlock the reason Pierce hid behind his mask of frivolity and decadence, perhaps she could reveal a man worth loving. A man worthy to keep next to her, not to mention one who seemed to revel in her sensual side. One who wanted her to act on her fantasies.
It was a mystery whether the housekeeper remained silent because she was discreet, or she simply didn’t know what traumas Pierce had undergone after his mother’s death. She vowed to uncover those secrets. She felt certain that the key to opening his heart lay in the years Pierce spent with his father in London.
For now, Helene was content to discover what pleasurable activity he’d scheduled for tonight. A quivering, nervous sureness resided in her that past activities were only a drop in the bucket compared to all the possibilities.
Mrs. Tofty had returned to the kitchen to supervise supper, and Helene now sat in the library thumbing through a loosely bound sketchbook she’d discovered. She’d heard of etchings before, but these expanded her notion of what human copulation entailed.
Men kissing men. Women lying with women. One page in particular caught her attention and she kept flipping back to it.
“See anything intriguing?”
Her husband’s voice startled her and the book flew out of her hands onto the floor. With an easy bow, Pierce swept it up and sat next to her on the couch.
“Come sit on my lap and show me what you’ve learned.”
“You startled me,” she said, straining to keep her voice even. After all they’d done on the grass by the stream she shouldn’t blush at a few charcoal drawings.
Gingerly she slid over to sit on his lap. The weight of her skirts dictated she balance herself by spreading her legs across his thighs leaving her feeling open. Exposed. His arms came around her and his chest molded to her back as they thumbed through the book together. His masculine scent enveloped her and she refrained from turning and nuzzling into his cheek. She’d requested sensual tutoring only and didn’t know if he’d accept affection from her.
“This is a particular favorite of mine,” he said, indicating a drawing showing a man standing over a woman who was braced all fours. Both forms were nude, and it was clear the man’s penis disappeared into the woman’s body, but where she wasn’t certain.
“You look confused,” he said. “His cock is in her arse.”
“But…why?” she blundered. “It serves no purpose. No child could come of such a coupling, could it?”
“No, but the purpose is pleasure. Look how she loves it.”
She examined the woman’s expression. Indeed, she appeared blissful and in raptures. Her own body felt achy and tingly with emptiness she wanted filled. “Have you ever engaged in such behavior?” she dared ask.
“I have and you will, too. I began the process of you accepting me there today.”
She thought back to the piercing pleasure-pain on the grass when he’d inserted a single finger inside her and shifted on his lap remembering the intensity of the feelings. Under her bottom, his hardness grew.
To cover her uncertainty over the idea of his large penis inside that particular private place, she turned the page of the book. It fell open onto the page that intrigued her so. Surely, he could feel the increased beating of her heart, but hopefully not the dampness between her thighs.
“What about this page? You seem to like it.”
She remained silent.
“Two men. One woman.” His finger traced a path down her arm. His voice was a low sonnet in her ear. “Both men are there for her pleasure. Hers to command. Or, depending on how you like it, theirs to command.”
She gave an involuntary shiver at that last idea. At the mercy of two men. How delicious. But how would it work? Who would do what?
As though he had a window into her mind, Pierce responded. “A man can find pleasure many ways in a woman’s body. Her cunt, as you already knew and her backside as you just learned. But, also her mouth, and her hands provide a welcome release.”
She nodded, processing the information and made to turn to the next page, but his hand stilled her actions. “You like this idea, don’t you? Don’t deny it. I can feel your response.”
Head bowed, her eyes locked to their joined hands on the page of the book. Could she ever dare voice her true desires? There’d be no return to decent society. And worse, what if he shunned her? What if Pierce made her play the whore then went back to the real ones, leaving her with nothing.
Trust was needed, but did she dare? She’d dared last night with excellent results. Perhaps Lord Brandford was entirely wicked, but entirely trustworthy.
“Helene?” he said. “Tell me. I want to know what arouses you. Does the thought of two men catering to your pleasure entice or scare you?”
She bit her lip and leaped. “Entice,” she whispered. Lord, she wanted that. The thought of Pierce nude and leaning over her along with another faceless man sent a thrill down her spine settling into her lower belly.
Pierce dislodged her from his lap and stood up. “Your wish is my command.” Holding hands they strolled to his bedroom. She held on to his hand as a lifeline. Sensing her nervousness, he anchored her. Steadied her.
“Gerrit,” he called as they entered the room. “You’re needed.”
Within a few moments, Pierce’s handsome valet entered the room. Suddenly her body felt too heavy to stand and yet light enough she might float away.
“Milord?” Gerrit entered, his blond hair tousled and standing at equal height with Pierce.
Pierce squeezed her hand and she sucked courage from his strength.
“My lady has made a request.”
“Sir?”
“She wishes to have us both service her.”
A wide grin spread over Gerrit’s face and he stepped toward them. Pierce halted his progress with a hand.
“However, she is still a virgin and I’d like to keep her that way for tonight.”
Huh? She turned a shocked face at her husband. Didn’t he sense how ready she was to rid herself of the last barrier of innocence? Besides, how would they accomplish what they’d seen in the picture if she remained chaste?
Pierce dropped her hand and began to unknot his cravat. “Gerrit, please undress her. Darling, let him disrobe you. He is a valet, after all, but I forgot to mention that I met him at a brothel and his services were so delightful, I selfishly stole him away.”
A brothel? Truly? Instead of being shocked, Helene analyzed the tall valet more closely. What services had he offered the brothel clients? Gerrit’s skilled hands removed her dress and managed to caress her neck, her breasts and her lower back while Pierce looked on, his eyes glowing with arousal.
Her skin tingled, she was so ready for the next lesson by the time she stood nude in front of both men.
“Up on the bed, Helene,” Pierce commanded.
She moved quickly, anxious not to miss a thing. Pierce strode over to Gerrit and helped him disrobe. Her breath hitched and she sat on her hands to stop their shaking. How beautiful it was. Who would have thought two men touching so intimately could be such an arousing sight? The beat of her heart drummed when Gerrit leaned into her husband and delivered a soft kiss, and an exhalation escaped her.
“Shocked or aroused?” Pierce turned his gaze back to her.
“I…I…” she stuttered, unable to complete a coherent thought. How embarrassing. They must think her such a goose.
But the men smiled and walked over to the bed, erections leading the way. “Lie back,” Pierce said, and she hastily complied.
As if they’d done this before, both men bent over her in unison and stroked from her shoulders to her breasts. A kiss here, a nibble there and she soon writhed with delight from the onslaught of sensation. It was almost pleasure to the point of pain, because it kept building with no release point in sight.
Pierce had already made it clear she was to remain a virgin tonight, so how was she to find that pinnacle of amazing sensation? She wanted a repetition of the feelings from the lakeside this morning.
Gerrit dipped his fingers to circle her navel then lower to part her legs and circle a pulsing point of pleasure at her junction. His fingers were slightly wider and rougher than Pierce’s.
Oh, god. So good. His fingers rubbed and pinched, making her damp and slippery. She was mindless to anything save the two sets of hands working her flesh till she heard pleading for release. That was her voice doing the begging.
While Gerrit’s hands worked her lower half, Pierce focused on her lips and breasts. His kisses interspersed with shocking, naughty tidbits whispered in her ear, like kisses for her inside.
“You love this,” he murmured. “I feel your body responding. You’re so wet.”
“Mmm-hmm,” she agreed.
“Do you feel your hips rising off the bed? You’re begging for it. You want my cock, don’t you?”
She opened her eyes. “Yes, I want this. I want you. Make this marriage real.”
His head lowered to gently bite and tug on her nipple. “Not yet.”
“Please.” But what she asked for she wasn’t sure, for Gerrit’s fingers had brought her too close to climax, and her hips r
ose seeking more and more pleasure. So close, she was so near to falling off the edge of the world into that maelstrom of sensation and bliss.
“Stop,” said Pierce, and without warning, all hands pulled off her.
She sat up in confusion. “What’s wrong? Why are you stopping?”
“We’ve stopped, because I’m not sure you’ve let go of all your past notions yet. You’ve allowed two men into your bed, but will you berate yourself in the morning? Part of you still wants to be back behind that potted palm, covered head to toe in white.”
“No, I don’t.” She hated the plea in her voice. She’d been so close. At this moment, she even hated him. How dare he stop her pleasure for a lesson?
“Prove it,” he challenged. “Show us you’ve let go of your past, that you’ve let go of three years of waiting for boring fools to invite you into a hypocritical club for supposedly decent folk. You’re not one of them, Helene. You never could be.”
He had her full attention now. What was he asking? She’d allowed his valet into their marriage bed. How much more could she do to prove she’d released any desire to be back in society’s good graces? “How?” she asked.
“Touch yourself.”
“No,” she said without pause for thought. He asked too much. Touching herself would bring back the flood of bad memories. Of getting caught and shunned, and relegated to the side of every ballroom, branded a sinner.
“You can do this,” Pierce said, reaching down to hold her hand. It was his simple touch that did it. ‘We’ll help you. Even call for a bathtub if necessary.”
She released a nervous laugh. “No. No tub. I…I’m scared.”
“Of what? Of finding your true self? Don’t be frightened by desire, sweetheart. Some of us have more than others.”
“And some of us have it in spades,” she muttered.
Pierce laughed. “True. And you’re one of them. As am I. Embrace it. Don’t run from it. I’m right here with you.”
She took a deep breath and squeezed his hand. She could do this. What was so frightening? No one would know, save the two people in the room, and she trusted her husband. Trust, she realized, was liberating. She could be herself and act on her most secret desires with him, because he would never laugh or throw her to the wolves as the supposedly decent people who’d been her friends had done.