The Holiday Hussy (When the Wallflowers were Wicked Book 11)

by Merry Farmer

  “Say it,” he demanded, increasing the pressure of his pinch until she squirmed, her sex on fire with need.

  “Fabian,” she gasped.

  He released the pressure and returned to caressing and teasing her breast. It felt even better after the flash of pain. He took a moment to sweep his hands over her arms, arranging them over her head as though he were a sculptor and she was his clay. The position left her feeling open and vulnerable, and decidedly wicked.

  “You have the body of a goddess,” he said in sultry tones, stroking his hand along the curve of her neck and over her shoulder to tease and fondle her other breast. “It was made for fucking. No wonder you’re such a harlot.”

  In the back of her mind, Alice thought that perhaps she should be offended by his words. Offense was the furthest thing from her mind, though. Especially when he rocked back so that he could use both hands to wrench her knees apart. The motion was so sudden and so carnal that she could barely catch her breath. He pushed her legs apart, knees bent, so that her sex yawned wide for him. Her body trembled as though she were terrified, but the sensation of liquid heat pulsing through her was anything but fear.

  “Does he spread you like this?” Fabian asked, stroking her thighs in a way that made it impossible for Alice to pay attention to what he was saying. “Does he play with your cunny until it’s dripping with your honey?”

  He didn’t give her a chance to answer. She couldn’t have formed words as he brushed his fingers over her gaping sex anyhow. The pleasure was too amazing. He plunged his fingers inside of her, then spread her moisture up over her clitoris. It felt so good when he stroked and circled that part of her that she wanted to weep with the pleasure of it. If this was what The Secrets of Love meant by submitting, she was all for it.

  “Come,” he ordered her. “I want to watch your cunny throbbing with release.” He continued to pleasure her with steady strokes. “I want you to call out my name as you shudder, knowing that I am the one doing this to you.”

  She was already startlingly close to doing exactly as he wanted. The coil of tension began to radiate with her coming orgasm, leaving her short of breath.

  “And when you’re finished coming, I’m going to fuck you so deeply that you won’t remember your own name, let alone the name of any other men.”

  That was all it took. Her body thundered into the most powerful orgasm she’d ever experienced, far more earth-shattering than anything she’d been able to coax out herself. And as the pleasure throbbed through her, she sighed, “Fabian. Dear God, Fabian.”

  A wicked smile spread across his face and a wolfish gleam lit his eyes. He surged forward, his body sliding over hers. The shift from icy cold air to his hot body covering her was delicious, but it was the sudden, merciless way he brought himself to her still throbbing entrance and pushed firmly inside of her that caused her to cry out without words.

  It hurt. Dear heavens, it hurt. Like being torn in two from the inside. But the lingering pleasure of orgasm was also there, and the aggressive way he moved in and out of her, jerking his hips against her and grunting with each thrust, ignited something beyond the pain. She clenched her thighs over his and clung to him, digging her nails into his back, as he mated with her in a combination of fury and desperation.

  Pleasure quickly eclipsed the pain, though he still felt impossibly huge inside of her, and a new set of sensations swept through her. He was wild and uncontrolled, like an animal with his mate. He needed her as his vessel and his anchor, she could feel it. His power was all hers, encompassing her, but with her as its source.

  The sounds he made became unfettered, and a tension radiated from him as though something momentous were about to happen. His breathing became shallower, then turned to a tight cry of victory as his body tensed. His hips flexed against hers, and the sensation of warmth and completeness filled her as his seed spilled within her. She gasped as a second orgasm overtook her, milking him even as he sagged, his loose weight pressing down on her. The whole thing was glorious and strange, and left her bristling with the feeling that they’d abandoned reality altogether.

  “You’re mine,” he purred, rolling to his side, then reaching for her and tucking her against him. He reached groggily for the bedcovers, closing them in a cocoon of heat and the scent of sweat and musk. “You’re mine, and don’t you forget it.”

  His voice grew groggy, and within moments, Alice had the feeling he’d fallen fast asleep. Her body ached and tingled with spent energy and amazement. Her sex stung with the loss of her virginity. Her lips were still swollen from his kisses, but she had yet to catch her breath. He was right. She was his. Unequivocally. And as mad and sudden as the whole thing had been, as used as her body felt, she wanted more. Much more.

  Chapter 4

  Fabian would have been happy to awake with the dawn chorus the next morning, Alice soft and warm in his arms. He would have grinned at his conquest from the night before, stretched, and run his hands over Alice’s naked body, arousing her to wakefulness. He would have wanted nothing more than to greet the day by lazily making love to her, listening to her signs of pleasure mingling with the whisper of the winter wind against his window and her desperate moans as she came. He would have loved to spend himself deep inside of her, hoping his seed took hold to start the large family he craved and knowing that anticipating their wedding vows by a few days wouldn’t matter in the long run.

  What he actually felt as the cold light of morning crept around the gaps between the curtains was a profound sense of doom and guilt.

  He shifted as subtly as he could, lifting his head to see if Alice was awake. Unsurprisingly, she was. Her body was tense against his and she stared straight forward at the wall. Fabian winced. He’d behaved like an utter brute with her the night before. Jealousy and the shock of being awakened without fully coming to his senses had made him crass. His stomach twisted at the memory of the things he’d said to her. He hoped he had just imagined half of them.

  But worst of all, a few, gut-wrenching details of the way her body had felt as he plundered her, the way she had reacted to his invasion, had him doubting every assumption he’d made in anger. Women of experience and cunning didn’t respond to lust the way Alice had.

  “You….” He hesitated, mustering up the courage to go on. “You weren’t seeking out George for an assignation last night, were you.” It wasn’t a question.

  Alice blinked and twisted to her back, turning her head to face him. The shift brought her body into contact with his in a dozen arousing ways. He couldn’t help his physical reaction to her, but he ignored it and focused on the confusion in her eyes.

  “Who’s George?” she asked.

  Fabian’s lips twitched into a smile even as the dread in his gut writhed like snakes. She was as sweet and lovely as she had been that summer, which was remarkable, all things considered. “George Percival?”

  She blinked at him again, shaking her head slightly.

  “The man you spoke to in the greenhouse after the display yesterday?”

  A slight frown furrowed her brow before she sucked in a breath, the confusion clearing from her expression. “Is that what his name was? I was asking him if he’d seen which way Georgette went.”

  Like the blast of a cannon, it all made sense to Fabian. She hadn’t said “George” when she entered his room in the middle of the night. She’d clearly said “Georgette”, but he’d heard what he expected to hear. Alice was innocent of attempting to cuckold him under his mother’s roof, days before their wedding. At least….

  He cleared his throat. “Tell me plainly. Were you a virgin before last night?”

  Alice’s eyes popped wide. “Of course, I was,” she said with equal parts indignation and shyness.

  Fabian dropped his head in shame, grimacing. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m so, so sorry. I was brutal with you. I let an imagined offense turn me into a beast. No woman should be introduced to pleasure that way.”

  Alice’s cheeks went
bright red and a gentle smile tilted the corners of her mouth. “I didn’t mind,” she said in a voice so low it was almost a whisper. “Well, it hurt for a moment, but it was quite thrilling. And pleasurable.”

  Fabian’s cock jerked at her words. The beast that had ravaged her the night before roared within him, urging him to spread her legs and claim her as his all over again. “You liked it?” he asked, his words coming out with ridiculous vulnerability that formed a stark contrast with the smoldering heat in his groin. He closed a hand over one of her dazzlingly full breasts to feed the beast instead of his sheepishness.

  Alice’s smile grew as she drew in a breath, arching her back. “Does it make me a complete wanton if I did?” she asked.

  “Yes,” he answered, shifting closer to her and nudging her legs apart with one knee. “But as you are to be my wife, I will allow it.”

  He surged toward her, intent on kissing her until she was dizzy, but instead of turning into the pool of pliability she’d been during the night, she gasped, “Oh!” and sat up. The movement was so abrupt that her shoulder hit his jaw, knocking him firmly out of his cloud of lust.

  “What?” he asked, sitting with her. His eyes honed in on her exposed breasts—gorgeous, heavy orbs that he instantly imagined himself kneading and suckling and even fucking until he came in a string of pearls around her neck—which she didn’t bother to cover.

  “Georgette,” she said, her sweet face hardening into a mask of determination as she attempted to scoot through the tangled bedsheets to the side of the bed. “I have to find her. I have to warn her.”

  Fabian reached out, hooking his arm around her waist and tugging her flush against him. “You don’t have to go anywhere at the moment,” he said, raising his hands to fondle her breasts as he looked down at them over her shoulder. He shifted so that he sat with his back against the headboard and positioned Alice between his legs, his cock pressed tightly against her luscious backside.

  She attempted to say something that came out as an incoherent sigh and tilted her head back. “I can’t think when you do that.”

  “Good,” he said, kneading her breasts with slightly more pressure. “I don’t want you to think, I just want you to feel.”

  “But Georgette,” she started, then gasped when he pinched her nipples. The gasp turned into a squeal. “Ooh, why do I like that so much when it hurts?”

  Another surge of lust pounded through Fabian, and he jerked his hips against her backside. “Because it’s not dangerous pain,” he said. “You know I’m not trying to hurt you. A little sting only makes the pleasure better.”

  She made another incoherent sound that might have been agreement or a plea for him to give her more. The way she wiggled her backside against him certainly led him to believe she wanted him buried deep within her. But still she managed to form the words, “Georgette. I have to warn her not to trust—oh!”

  Fabian bit her shoulder gently to stop her worry. Her breath came in tight pants and heat radiated from her. He slipped one hand from her breast, across her belly, and between her legs to test her. Sure enough, she was as wet as a rainstorm over the ocean.

  “I’ll tell you what,” he purred against the side of her head. “I’m going to bend you forward and fuck your tight, wet pussy until we both come. Then I’ll let you get up, dress, and go in search of Georgette to tell her whatever you want to.”

  She answered with a mewling sound, sucking in a breath as he rubbed her clit, and nodded.

  The beast was back in command. Even if he’d wanted to, Fabian wasn’t sure he could have waited. Sometimes long and slow was the way to go, but in that moment, fast and hard was right.

  He tipped her forward until she spilled, head down, across the bunched quilts. Her body was loose and submissive as he lifted her hips and spread her legs. The sight of her so open and at his mercy, the slick, pink folds of her pussy gaping open for him, beckoning, was almost more than he could take. He positioned himself on his knees behind her, grasping her hips and jerking her back toward him.

  He slid deep within her easily, her pussy a tight sheath around him. It felt so good that he groaned with pleasure as he jerked into her. His entire groin tightened as he thrust mercilessly, hinting that he wouldn’t last long. It didn’t matter how quick he was, knowing that she was his and that soon he could have her this way—and a hundred other, sinful ways—whenever he wanted fired his blood.

  “Oh, oh, oh, oh!” Her cries of pleasure were delicious, each one more desperate, as if his thrust were bringing her to orgasm as fast as he was rushing there. “Oh! Oh! Fabian! Oh!”

  “Alice!” Her pussy convulsed around him just as pleasure exploded through him, from the base of his spine and out through his cock into her. He didn’t usually come so hard, but something about Alice doubled every pleasure he’d ever felt before. His world narrowed down to the pleasure throbbing through him, then softened into a feeling of absolute bliss as he drew back and collapsed, spent, onto the bed.

  The urge to sleep followed hard on the heels of his contentment. “Gorgeous,” he managed to pant as he splayed against the sheets. “Perfect.”

  She flopped back to lay at his side. “I never knew that was possible.”

  He was tempted to laugh. More than tempted. The world seemed absolutely right and everything was as it should be. He should have taken Alice in his arms and kissed her tenderly, praising her for her bravery and sensuality. Instead, he fell fast asleep.

  When he awoke an unknown amount of time later, she was gone. He shouldn’t have been surprised. Alice had been clear that she had some sort of mission where his step-sister was concerned. But he felt her loss all the same. It pushed him out of bed and over to his washstand. The maid had been in at some point to relight the fire, and the day seemed well and truly started. He dressed as fast as he could, a smile on his face, then headed downstairs to seek out his bride.

  She wasn’t at the table in the breakfast room, though at least a dozen of his mother’s guests were. Everyone was chatting happily as the scent of cinnamon and tea filled the air. Fabian’s stomach growled, but he walked out of the room moments after entering it. He wanted to find Alice, thank her again for the beautiful night and awakening, then lavish affection on her by feeding her sweets and waiting on her every need for the rest of the day. And that required that he find her.

  He wandered the house until he heard her voice as he approached the library.

  “…which is why it is of vital importance that you listen to me,” she was in the middle of saying.

  Fabian smiled. She must have found Georgette after all. He paused just outside of the library, pressing his back against the wall and giving her a final few moments to complete her business.

  “I can assure you, my friend, you have nothing to worry about,” Georgette said, a smile in her voice.

  “Don’t I?” Alice asked, clearly anxious. “Marriage is a trap that women cannot escape from.”

  Fabian’s grin dropped and the muscles in his back and shoulders stiffened.

  “My father’s marriage machinations have proven to be nothing but disaster,” she went on. “He has caused misery and ruin at every turn, and I would rather die than see you forced into an untenable position the way my sisters and I have been.”

  The tension gripping Fabian ratcheted up and he frowned. Was the thought of marriage to him truly that miserable to Alice?

  “Truly, you have no need to worry on my behalf,” Georgette went on. “I am flattered by your father’s attentions, but I would never consider marriage to him.”

  “You must be on your guard, though,” Alice rushed on. “It is not as easy as all that to avoid marriage, even when one does everything right. Believe me, I know.”

  “I do not doubt it,” Georgette said cautiously.

  “You must learn from the plights of me and my sisters. All three of us had husbands thrust on us against our will simply to feed our father’s ambition and lust for money, though Imogen was fortunate enou
gh to wiggle out of her sentence. Lettuce and I have not been so lucky.”

  Fabian’s frown hardened into a scowl. Was that what Alice thought? That their forthcoming marriage was a prison? How she could still feel that way after moaning like a harlot for him as he took her from behind not more than three hours ago wasn’t just a mystery, it was an insult. He wouldn’t stand by and let himself be spoken of like that.

  “Beware of spending too much time in my father’s company or of being left alone with him,” Alice went on.

  Her words ended with a sharp gasp as Fabian stepped into the room, glowering and certain he looked like the devil come to snatch her.

  “Fabian.” Georgette stepped away from the fire, where she and Alice were talking, and crossed the room to greet him. Her sisterly smile dropped to concern as soon as she saw his expression. She glanced over her shoulder to Alice, a light of understanding glinted in her eyes, then she turned back to him. “I’ll just leave the two of you alone,” she said before rushing out of the room.

  Fabian nodded as she hurried past him, then fixed his stare on Alice. His reluctant bride’s face had gone pink and her eyes wide, but he couldn’t tell whether her expression was fear or desire or alarm. Perhaps it was all three.

  “So I am a trap set by your father, am I?” he asked, getting right to the point as he marched up to her.

  “I—that is—oh.” She wrung her hands in front of her, darting a glance toward the door as if she might bolt.

  “You didn’t seem to think marriage to me was such a prison sentence last night,” he growled, hurt getting the better of him.

  “It’s not that,” she said, clearly flustered. She bit her lip and glanced pleadingly up at him.

  Part of Fabian wanted to be moved by the clear misery in her eyes, but too great a part of him felt as though that misery was an unbreakable wall that would always come between them. “If this is the way you feel about marriage to me, then why not call the whole thing off?”