Nye rose back up to his feet. “Let me get a good look at you,” he said, placing his hands on his hips and planting his feet as his eyes roamed over the picture she made. Mina stilled, glad of the excuse not to have to strip further. All she had left on her now was her cotton chemise, drawers, black stockings and ankle boots.
It seemed an odd request for him to make, then suddenly, she remembered one of her old pupils, Miss Arabella Plimpton, telling the other girls about her brother’s French picture postcards. She had listened along with the others in astonished silence to hear that Bella’s brother kept a collection of well-thumbed photographs depicting women clad only in their undergarments.
Mina glanced down; doubtful her own appearance would be as alluring. She felt horribly aware that her underclothes were plain and functional without a frill or furbelow in sight. Even her garters were plain white elastic. She could see no reason for him to dwell with pleasure on the picture she made. They weren’t even a nice crisp laundered white these days.
“I’m afraid the black dye of my dresses rather rubs off on things,” she said lamely. Looking up, she saw Nye wasn’t attending her. His eyes were fixed on her legs, she thought with surprise and wondered why. She looked back down, suddenly wondering if there was a hole in her stocking.
“Take down your hair,” he said in a gravelly voice.
A refusal trembled on her lips, but it seemed silly to cavil after she’d stripped off her clothing at his request. Instead, she reached up hesitant fingers and removed her hairpins, unravelling the roll of hair from her nape. She shook her head and ran her fingers through it, until her hair lay loose over her shoulders.
“Turn around,” he said in a gravelly voice.
“Nye—” she started to object, but he interrupted her.
“Indulge me.”
She tutted and turned in a slow circle. “I know for a fact I look nothing like a French dancing girl.”
“Like a what?”
“You know,” Mina retorted, blushing. “Like one of those picture postcards of women in their drawers.”
Nye’s expression wavered for a moment. “When did you ever see such a thing?” he asked, holding his hand out to her. He looked a little disconcerted.
“I haven’t precisely,” she admitted, placing her hand in his. “But I know they exist.”
He drew her up against him, one hand resting with great familiarity against her bottom. “How do you know you don’t look like one, then?” he asked in a low voice. She thought a thread of amusement ran through his words and looked up sharply at him.
“I just know,” she said, her gaze sliding away evasively as her chest rose and fell. Ironically, she felt a good deal more breathless since her corset had been removed.
“I don’t think you do,” he said, placing his other hand at her waist. His fingers flipped up the edge of her chemise, so his hand slid against her bare skin there, making her jump and bite back an exclamation. He stroked a thumb against the indentation of her waist in a leisurely fashion. Mina shivered.
“Let’s get these boots off you and lay you on the bed,” he said, and she felt unspeakably relieved he didn’t expect her to strip naked. At his urging, she sat on the edge of the mattress as he sat on his haunches and untied her laces, casting the ankle boots aside. He hesitated over her stockings, running his palm up and down her calf. “How do you feel about keeping these on?”
Mina stared at him a moment. “My stockings?”
He nodded. “These need to come off, though,” he said, tugging at her white cotton drawers.
Mina’s face flamed. Really? “Can I take them off under the covers?” she asked stiffly. He shook his head. “Why not?”
“Because I want to do something to you here and now.”
“Do something to me?” she echoed croakily. He nodded slowly, his eyes glinting up at her wickedly. “Oh.” She cleared her throat. “Very well.”
He reached up and loosened the strings at her waist. “Lift up,” he ordered. Mina lifted her hips off the bed, and he tugged her white drawers down to her ankles, then whisked them off her altogether. Mina forgot to breathe for a moment. She didn’t dare look Nye in the face. She was mortified that he was squatting down like that, at eye level with her most private place. She had never even taken a good look down there herself! His hands were on her knees, urging her to part her legs and heaven help her before she even realized it, she had obeyed his unspoken demand and opened herself to him.
Suddenly, he let out a harsh groan, and Mina’s eyes flew to his. He was staring right between her legs. Her mouth went dry. She almost shrank from him when he lurched forward, sliding two big hands under her bare bottom, and dragged her to the edge of the mattress. “Nye,” she cried. “What on earth are you—?” She forgot to breathe when he went in face first.
She let out a soundless squawk as she felt his hot mouth there, her brain refusing to believe the evidence of her own eyes as to Nye’s depravity. He couldn’t possibly be doing that. Not there. His warm breath against her sensitive skin there made her shudder. His wicked tongue parting her cleft and sliding through her folds made her gasp. “Nye!” she squeaked. “What do you think you’re doing?”
He just groaned in answer, as though incapable of speech. Which he probably was, she thought as her toes curled and she closed frenzied fingers to the thick dark hair at his nape. For his mouth was pressed to her trembling flesh. His tongue seemed to have found a sensitive spot between her legs that made her vision flicker and he was lavishing it with enough attention to make squeeze all the breath out of her lungs.
Her head lolled back on a choked sob. She writhed against his mouth in an abandonment she could never have believed herself capable of, arching her back and craning for the wicked caress of his mouth where she most needed it. Tears started from her eyes and she realized she was being none to gentle, tugging and pulling at his hair, raising her hips to press herself eagerly against his mouth. He didn’t seem to mind though, as his hands squeezed her buttocks, urging her to press closer and closer to questing tongue.
“Oh Nye!” she squealed. “Nye!” Then her vision wavered altogether, and she felt herself swoop over the edge of an altogether different cliff, but instead of being dashed against the rocks below she turned into sea foam as light as the air and crested on the bobbing waves.
By the time she surfaced from her stupor, Mina found herself lying in the middle of the bed, with Nye, lying next to her, his hand squeezing and cupping her naked breasts. Mina blinked and raised her head to find her chemise was gone and the only thing she was wearing was her black stockings with their elastic garters. Why had he left just those on? She wondered in confusion. Her eyes sought his, her gaze uncertain, his intense.
“I had no idea what you were hiding under those drab black gowns, Mrs. Nye,” he growled. “If I’d had even a suspicion…” His eyes dropped to where his large tan hands were fondling her full white breasts with their rose-pink tips. Mina made a strangled noise in the back of her throat. Her large bosom had always been something of a trial to her. In classical art, the statues and paintings showed women with perky high bosoms. She’d long ago realized hers were not like those idealized depictions.
It was a good thing she still felt drowsy and sated, she realized dimly at the back of her mind, or she would die with mortification at the way he was squeezing and toying with her now.
“You don’t need all that whalebone, Mina,” he said huskily. “Flattening you out from chest to hip. You must be pinching these beauties half to death.” He cocked a quizzical eye at her.
Oh God, he expected her to speak to him while he did these things to her, she realized. With effort, she concentrated on his words. “I… well…” She licked her lips. “Mama always said a decent woman should—” She bit off her words with a smothered squeak as he pinched one of her nipples between finger and thumb.
“I’m guessing your mother wasn’t built like you,” he said, lowering his head and kissing it better.
“N-no,” she agreed, remembering Mama’s dainty figure. “Not at all.”
He sucked her nipple into his hot mouth. Mina gasped. “W-what are you doing?”
He ran his tongue around the tip before releasing it. “I’m consoling your poor abused bosom,” he said, moving to the other breast and repeating the process. “After you’ve been so cruel to it.”
She fell back against the pillows. Why did she feel the pull of his mouth between her legs, she wondered with a faint whimper. “What do you mean, cruel?” she forced herself to ask as he shifted over her, inserting one hard thigh between her legs, and licking the undersides of her breasts, making her shiver. She knew her wits were scattered right now, but she was sure he wasn’t making any sense!
“Smothering them all day long under that constricting corset,” he said huskily from the valley between her breasts as he pressed alternated kisses from one to the other. She blinked down at him. “I’m going to be very, very kind to these poor, maltreated breasts,” he said with a wink that flustered her. He was teasing her, she thought but she was unable to muster up even a semblance of resentment about it. With a muffled groan, she arched up, pressing her core shamelessly against his muscled thigh. Oh God, why did that seem to give relief? She shuddered, trying to stop herself from repeating the motion.
Giving a lie to his words, she suddenly felt Nye’s teeth close about her sensitive nipple and gave a startled scream. “It’s not kind to bite!” she huffed, grabbing the hair at the back of his head and tugging him back.
He ignored her hair pulling and laved her nipple lavishly with his tongue. “Haven’t you ever heard of being cruel to be kind?” he groaned. “Ah, Mina.”
If he had any respect for her, she thought, he would certainly not be treating her in such a fashion. Unfortunately, she didn’t have enough breath to upbraid him about it right now. She was too busy rubbing herself against his hard thigh like a wanton.
“Nye!” she whimpered. He released his grip on one breast and inserted his hand between them, running it down her flat stomach and between her legs. “Nye!” Her head came off the pillow.
“You’re nice and wet down here,” he said with approval. The slide of his fingers was downright scandalous. His words penetrated the fog that was on her mind right now. Wet? Her gaze snapped to his.
“F-from your mouth?” she faltered, realizing she was wet down there. Very wet. She could even hear it. Her ears burned at the lewd sound.
He smiled slowly. “No, this is all you.”
She squirmed and felt one big finger slide right inside her. “Oh!” He snared her startled gaze as he added a second finger, stretching her and making her wince.
“I can feel it,” he grunted with surprise. At Mina’s questioning gaze, he added. “Your virginity.”
If her cheeks weren’t stained scarlet already, they were now. “Nye,” she reproached him. “Ow!” She felt his fingers moving ruthlessly inside her. It stung. “Did you just—?” Did he just take her maidenhead with his fingers?
“It would just have been in my way,” he replied, and she felt the burn as he added a third finger. Mina winced. “It’s too much,” she whined, for the first time not enjoying his ministrations.
“You haven’t seen my cock yet,” he said wryly.
“Nye!” At her shocked gasp, he shifted again over her. Now it wasn’t his thigh between her legs, but his hips. Mina felt the hard bulge pressed against her stomach with trepidation. He still wore the soft worn flannel underpants, but something was spilling over the waistband, bumping against her, demanding attention.
Before she could get too worried, his mouth was back on hers again, hot, and wet. Mina’s senses reeled. She clutched his shoulders, drove her fingers back into his hair. Her hard nipples rubbed against the dark hair of his chest. It both thrilled and horrified her how much she enjoyed the sensation.
He tore his mouth from hers. “Call me Will when I’m inside you,” he said gruffly.
“Will?”
That got his attention. “Yes?”
“I’m just trying it out,” she explained breathlessly.
“I’m not inside you yet, Mina,” he pointed out.
“Your fingers are,” she argued, then felt mortified she’d pointed it out.
“Yes, they are,” he growled in wolfish agreement. “I’m going to replace them now with this.” He grabbed her hand from his hair and dragged it down to press against the thick tumescent flesh of his manhood. Her eyes flew wide as he dragged her fingers up and down his broad length. Oh dear, thought Mina. This was never going to work. She had to stifle an instinctive refusal to even try.
Mina stiffened her resolve. Certainly, she was a fully grown woman and more than a match for the likes of William Nye! ‘Twas only fear of the unknown making her quail and quake like this. He released her hand to drag down his underwear, freeing himself from the confines of the flannel. Mina kept her hand curved around him, her breath coming fast. It felt so strange. She had never known anything like it. Almost she wanted to demand a good look at it, but Nye’s big body was in the way, crowding her view. She stared at his chest which heaved as though he was running a race. She wondered at it, remembering how he had carried up that cliff without breaking a sweat.
Then he shifted again, withdrew his fingers from her depths and cupped her mound, stroking his thumb through her curls. “I’m going to enjoy this part more than you, Mina,” he admitted roughly. “I’ve prepared you as much as I can, but you’re unused and it’s going to be a tight fit.”
“Yes,” she murmured; she’d heard that much about joining’s. “I’m ready.”
He shifted over her again, glancing down between them as he adjusted himself so position against her entrance. She squeezed her thighs against his hips as she braced herself. “Relax,” he urged her. “Let me in.”
She breathed out, nodded her head, and felt him surge forward. Her eyes widened. He hadn’t exaggerated. It was going to be a struggle to take him. And oh, it burned.
“Oh God, Mina,” he groaned in a strangled voice. “You’re so tight.”
She whimpered, not with pleasure this time. Ouch. Her hands flew to his sides and she sank her fingers into his lean hips.
“Just bear with it,” he ground out. “I’ll go as slow as I can.”
She pressed the back of one of her hands to her mouth to suppress a cry trying to force its way out.
“You’re doing so well,” he praised her and to her surprise, lowered his face to kiss her upraised palm. “Mina,” he whispered. She was just marveling that he’d never been so gentle with her, when a brutal twist of his hips seated him so deeply within her, they both cried out in unison. Their ragged breaths intermingled a moment as Mina’s indignation blazed hot at such rough treatment.
“Say it now,” he entreated shakily.
He wanted his name now? Mina seethed. “You nasty brute, Will Nye!” she upbraided him, panting. “That was not slow!”
He gave a breathless laugh. “Does it hurt really bad?”
“I feel like you’ve buried a sword into my belly!” she flung at him accusingly.
“Oh God Mina, love,” he moaned. “You’re just going to make things worse for yourself.”
“What are you talking about—?” she started, but his hand was at the back of her neck and the next thing she knew his mouth was crushed to hers, his tongue thrusting into her mouth, choking off all words. When he drew back, his eyes were ablaze.
“You’re just making me hotter for you,” he said thickly, then thrust his hips again, making her gasp.
Mina regarded him speechlessly. Her words were inflaming him? “You’re mad!”
“And you’re tight,” he groaned. “So bloody tight, I’m going to lose my mind.” Suddenly, his hand was at her knee, urging her to lift it.
“Wha-?”
“Wrap it around my back,” his words were tersely spoken. She had only just rested her heel against the small of his back when he thrust again wit
h a loud, shuddering groan. “Red stockings,” he gritted.
Mina was telling herself it did not hurt so much now. She felt alarmingly full and stretched to capacity but not in pain precisely. She frowned. “Red stockings?” she repeated.
“I want you in them.”
What? “Why?”
“And lace,” he grunted as he settled into a bruising rhythm. “Lots and lots of lace.”
Mina’s head bumped back against the pillow as he labored above her, grunting and groaning, doing his best to bounce her off the mattress. His hands settled once again, beneath her bare bottom, urging her closer still every time he surged into her.
Broken words and phrases fell from his lips, but she decided not to press him for any meaning. She still hadn’t recovered from the prospect of red stockings. The bed swayed and creaked and the brass bedstead smacked against the wall.
Mina was suddenly profoundly grateful it was early. That meant neither Edna nor Ivy would be a-bed to hear the racket they were making. Finally, with a bellow, Nye collapsed on top of her. Without thinking, she closed her arms around him, and the only sound for several minutes was their mutually labored breathing.
Finally, Nye rolled off her with a groan and flung an arm across his face. Mina lay there a moment, her body still trembling in the aftermath. With a sudden curse, he sat up and grabbed her nightgown off the bottom of the bed.
“Don’t you dare—” She managed to get out before he leant over and wiped her with it between her legs.
“It’s really all it’s good for,” he said with a twisted smile and slung her poor maligned nightgown over the side of the bed. She eyed him with as much annoyance as she could muster, which admittedly was not much.
Even he seemed surprised. “Come on school-teacher, is that all you’ve got?”
“Pass me the bedsheets,” she huffed, too tired to even make a grab for them.
To her surprise, he reached down and drew them over them both as he shifted into her. “Reach down and take off your stockings.”
In truth, Mina had forgotten all about her stockings. To her surprise, Nye did not relinquish his hold of her while she bent her leg and slipped them off. As he did not let go, she was forced to simply ball them up and throw them similarly over the side of the bed. She wondered if he had been serious about the red stockings and blushed.
A Bride for the Prizefighter: A Victorian Romance Page 18