An Improper Seduction Read online

“I doubt that, my lady.” Geoffrey scoffed at her as he left to pull a blanket from his saddle. He spread it out near the waters, then returned for a basket also strapped to his horse. In moments, he laid out a bottle of fine champagne, two crystal flutes, a bowl of early strawberries and another of clotted cream.

  Then he returned to her side while remarking, “You have so many more lessons to learn, my dear. We have only just begun. Come, sit down on the blanket.” He pulled her to the temporary nest he had created in the glade.

  “I have learned quite enough,” Angeline retorted. “I see no need for more lessons,” she protested while resisting her inevitable movement toward the blanket since his strength was much greater than hers.

  “Sit,” he commanded.

  “No,” she refused.

  In one quick action, Geoffrey used his foot to sweep her feet from under her, causing her rapid descent to the ground. To save her further pain, he placed his large palms on each globe of her lush posterior. He controlled her landing, then held his weight above her, his face inches from her own.

  “Madam,” he cautioned, “I do not take no for an answer.” He squeezed her backside gently then released her to sit down by the champagne, berries and cream.

  Angeline sat up in a huff, glaring at her abductor. “I am truly tired of your proprietary attitude, my lord. It will not do.”

  “After last night, my lady, you are mine to command,” he returned cocksure as he neatly popped the cork from the bottle.

  Angeline jumped from the startling sound. “Never, my lord, never will I be yours to command. Not in your wildest dreams. I will always remain my own person.”

  Ignoring her current protest, Geoffrey poured two glasses of the bubbly libation, then handed one to his unwilling guest. After Angeline took the glass, he raised his to hers while toasting, “To us.”

  “I think not.”

  He clinked his glass to hers anyway, then took a large swallow, momentarily holding it in his mouth to appreciate its taste. “There is nothing like the taste of a fine champagne. Do not you agree, my angel? Except maybe the taste of you. But then, we haven’t had that lesson yet,” he teased as he dipped a strawberry into the cream.

  Angeline’s blush rose from her breast to spread across her chest. Heat invaded her again. “You’ve had all the taste you shall get of me, my lord. I dare say you are not listening.”

  Ignoring her, Geoffrey leaned forward with the cream-laden berry, brushing it tenderly against her lips. “Do you like the cream, my angel?” his eyes, hot and very green, steady upon hers.

  Angeline’s breath caught with the heat of his gaze. “Yes, my lord,” she almost whispered in return as her tongue came out of her mouth to lick the sweet confection.

  “Open wide, Angeline,” he commanded. When she did so, he popped the berry into her mouth. “Let me feed you berries, Angeline,” he coaxed her. “It will be ever so pleasant. . .for the both of us. Would you like a lot of the cream?” He smiled warmly at her, the glint back in his green eyes, as if there was some secret meaning she was missing yet again.

  “Yes, Geoffrey,” she relented, “a lot of the cream,” as she received another berry.

  “Angeline, I greatly enjoyed our lovemaking last night. I cannot remember when I have had such a passionate partner. And I have had my share of partners. You are so warm, so willing, so very responsive, my angel. Being inside you is surely as close to heaven as I will get here on Earth,” confessed the marquess.

  “Your language, sir, is much too. . .too. . .forward.”

  “But, Angeline, you are my lover now; surely I can say anything to you. Do not these saucy phrases excite you? The thought of me inside you, does it make you wet once again?” Without her permission, Geoffrey slid his hand under her skirts, up her legs to the soft patch of fur at her nether regions. Still without hesitation, he slid a finger between her cleft to nestle into the soft wet heat he found there. “You are wet for me, Angeline. Ready for me even now,” he whispered, his eyes hot, his breathing growing ragged.

  Angeline had been sipping her champagne then chewing a strawberry when his quick, sure movements came upon her. She gasped with his intimacies, embarrassed by the truth of his words and the telltale signs of her body confessing her desires, her needs.

  “We could make love here, my angel. It is private. No one will see us,” assured the marquess.

  “No. No!” protested Angeline as she tried to push his hand away from her woman’s center. “We mustn’t. And I am sore. You are too much. You are too large. I should not have to handle a man your size.”

  “You are only new at the game, my love. You will not be sore for long, then you will yearn to feel the pleasure my cock can bring you once more. In the meantime, our next lesson will be a little different. I promise.”

  “There can be no more lessons. I want none of it; I will not come tonight,” Angeline confessed to him.

  “Our champagne is finished, our berries eaten, it is time I escort you back. But I will wait for you in the cottage tonight. I will be ready when you arrive,” Geoffrey assured her warmly as he rose to his feet, then extended his hand to help her up. His smile was all seduction and knowing, a Cheshire cat grin.

  “Do not wait for me, my lord, for I will not come,” she vowed.

  Geoffrey escorted Angeline home. After dismounting, he came round to lift her from her saddle to place her lightly on the ground. But he did not release her. He left one arm round her and held her close as he raised her face with his thumb and forefinger. She could smell her own scent on his fingertips.

  “I enjoyed our afternoon together, Angeline. I always enjoy my time with you. I will hardly wait for you to come to me tonight.” He brushed his lips over hers, then let her go to remount his Arabian.

  “I will not come, your lordship.” Angeline held the mare’s ribbons in her hand as she called after him. Realizing he was leaving the mare, she shouted, “Wait, your horse. You’re leaving her behind.”

  Geoffrey stopped his progress and turned back to her. “She is yours, my Angeline. I bought her just for you. Her name is Aphrodite. What better than the Greek goddess of love and beauty for you? I plan to breed her with my stallion, Zeus.” He patted the neck of the black horse he straddled. “They both have fine bloodlines and their offspring will give us a stable of quality horses. Until tonight, my lady.” He reared the black, then rode away at breakneck speed toward Colburn Park.

  Again without the last word, Angeline turned the ribbons over to the stable lad who had come running up as Geoffrey rode away.

  She sighed heavily and headed for the house.

  The stalwart butler greeted Geoffrey at the front door with a quick bow. “I have news for you, my lord. I think I know who the father is,” he whispered.

  “Give over, Graham. What have you learned?”

  In conspiratorial tones, the manservant continued, “I have kept a close watch, your lordship. Brenda goes to the stables more than is necessary. She goes when she thinks no one is watching and she stays longer than propriety holds decent.”

  Graham closed the door behind the marquess, then continued, “The head stable boy is only eighteen, my lord, and he supports his mother, a younger brother and two younger sisters. It is just as she told you the other day, he makes not enough money to take her to wife as well.”

  Geoffrey rubbed his hand across his chin. “He is good with the horses, no, Graham?”

  “Yes, my lord. He has been working in our stable since he was two and ten years old. He learned from the ostler before him who died about two years ago.”

  “And the late Lord Colburn did not hire another to run the stable?”

  “Well, my lord, I would not be privy to such information as to why, but there has been no ostler since the last passed on.”

  “Is there another l
ad senior to this chap, what is his name?”

  “Lester, my lord. He has been here longer than any other and the horses have thrived under his hand. The late lord never had a complaint about his studs or mares and there have been a number of quality foals, as well.”

  “Thank you, Graham, for this piece of news. I will look further into it. Do you know how our Brenda is getting on?”

  “My lord, she is as big as a house. I cannot but imagine she will see her time soon.”

  “Then I must make my plans as well.”

  “As you wish, my lord.”

  Geoffrey went to his library to research his past stable employees, how much they earned, and how long they had been employed. If things worked out, he would see to it the young lovers married and had enough to live on. Even if Lester had to continue to support his mother and siblings.

  It was the right thing to do.

  Chapter 8

  Later that night, Angeline paced her room swearing at herself and the all-demanding needs of her body. She ached all over and still she wanted more. Of what? she asked herself. She had relations with him; what more could there be? More of the same? She could not take it; she still could barely sit down. And their outing earlier that afternoon had not helped in spite of the fact that Aphrodite was a gentle ride.

  Back and forth she went, half past eleven came and went while the desire in her body grew. I cannot, she told herself. He will think he has all the power over me. I cannot let him know I need more.

  Finally losing her battle for the third time, she hied off to the cottage, enraged once again at the need the marquess had induced in her.

  As on the night before, she slammed the door open and stormed in, then stopped dead in her tracks. Geoffrey stood across the room, his back to her, stark naked. She could see the strength of his body in every bared muscle and sinew. His shoulders were broad, his waist tapered, his hips lean, and his backside tight and muscled. He was an Adonis and she wanted to run her hands over every masculine inch of him.

  She blushed at the thought of exactly which inches came to mind.

  He was occupied with some activity, his left hand holding a bowl near his waist, his right arm moving vigorously.

  “Welcome, my dear, you do not disappoint,” his voice filled with smugness.

  “Blast you, Geoffrey. What have you done to me that I cannot resist returning to you?” she demanded.

  “Only introduced you to the ways of the flesh, my angel. I promised you I would be a good teacher. Do you find me lacking?” His face was all leer when he turned around to face her in his blatant nudity, his sex rock hard and protruding forward to taunt her.

  Angeline’s breath caught in her throat as her mind relived the activities she had shared with his rampant sexual organ. She blushed. She heated. Her eyes rose to his, all green with unmistakable desire and amusement.

  “Lesson Three, my dear, please disrobe. Your clothes will only get in the way and I would not want to muss them,” he ordered as he strode to the side of the bed. He stood still, watching as her fingers hesitantly fumbled with her buttons. Then her gown fell to the floor. “As always, my dear, you are magnificent and well worth the wait. Now watch closely.”

  With the bowl still in his left hand, he scooped up a goodly portion of its contents, then raised his eyes to her face to insure that she was paying attention.

  Angeline’s eyes were locked on the lower part of the marquess’s anatomy. Her attention moved from his hand filled with what? White cream? Whipped cream? To his marble-hard sex. When he suddenly placed the cream upon it, she fell back against the door gasping for air.

  Geoffrey set down the bowl, then lay upon the bed and continued to apply the whipped cream to his male member. “Come, my dear,” he urged her, “sit next to me on the bed.”

  Hesitant, Angeline moved to sit where his empty hand, patting the blanket, indicated. She had taken her gaze away from his lower parts to concentrate upon his face.

  “It is time to teach you, my angel, that there are other ways, other satisfactions, we can share. Since you are so tender, we will take a different tack tonight. Turn around, Angeline. Look at my cock. I have made it a dessert for you. Just like the strawberries this afternoon. Lick it, my love. Savor it, but you must not bite; unlike the berries, it must remain attached to my person so it can give you more pleasure later. Go ahead, Angeline,” he urged her, “suck on me, taste my cream.” Gently he pushed her back to move her downward.

  Angeline was appalled and enticed all at the same time. She would never have imagined such an act in her entire life, but there she was, staring at Geoffrey’s arousal indecently swathed in her favorite concoction, whipped cream. Feeling the subtle pressure upon her back she leaned forward, watching as his sex loomed up into her vision. She opened her mouth wide, then closed her eyes as she licked the cream. She licked and licked, savoring the sweetness until her tongue came into contact with a hard, slick object. His penis. She felt him jerk as she licked him, felt his body tighten next to hers, then realized he wanted her as much as she needed him. That she had more power in this arrangement than she had ever thought possible. Each time she licked him, his body tightened. She was beginning to enjoy this newfound power.

  Opening her eyes, she leaned over farther to take the whole of him into her mouth. When her lips closed around him, the groan from the other end of the bed was raw, primal. Deciding to do as she was bid, she started to suck on his sex.

  “Angeline,” came the plea from the marquess. “Oh, Angeline.” He moaned as he started to massage her back, moving his hands down until he could caress the favored portion of her anatomy. Then he slid his hand between her cheeks to experience her arousal. “You are liquid for me, my angel. Are you aroused, too, by sucking my cock? I think you are. Oh, Angeline,” he gasped as her onslaught continued.

  Gathering her courage, enjoying her control over him, Angeline plied her subject further. Her hand went down to grasp his ballocks, an action that generated a whole new round of expletives from her lover. She tongued, licked, sucked, fondled every hard inch of him until all the whipped cream was gone; still she did not let up.

  In an unexpectedly rapid motion, Geoffrey sat up, grasped Angeline by her hips, then laid back, positioning her hips above his face, each of her knees on either side of his head. Instantaneously his tongue was upon her, licking her slit, her clitoris, and delving deeply into her.

  Angeline, startled by the sudden actions and the new sensations, ceased her attentions. Moans escaped her lips as each new touch of his tongue sent shivers up her spine and desire burning through her body. “Oh, Geoffrey. Oh!” Her control ripped from her, she found her hips rolling and pushing against his hungry mouth. This was more than she had ever thought, this was more than she could stand. “Yes. Yes!” she urged his attentions on.

  As if sensing she was near her climax, Geoffrey moved his lips to the pearl of her passion. Taking it gently in an oral embrace, he suckled it while holding her hips so she could not pull away. As her desires became more and more heated, he opened his mouth to let his tongue have at her. Licking, then suckling, and finally biting gently upon her, he forced her higher and higher.

  “Oh, Geoffrey. I can’t. You mustn’t,” protested Angeline, her wantonness appalling her even as she pushed her hips closer to his mouth. The sensations were endless. The licking made her shiver. The sucking made her tremble. The biting made her body strain for release. Over and over she felt the tension build, holding herself back, not wanting him to make her lose control again. But he was too practiced and she was too new to the game.

  Suddenly the climax swept over her, thrilling her, fracturing her, causing her to scream aloud with the pleasure, the intensity of it all. Gasping, gasping for breath, her body heaved and pushed over him until he stopped his tantalizing activities and she collapsed upon his chest.
/>   Gently laying her aside upon the bed, Geoffrey got up and went to the water pitcher to pour water in the basin. He smiled in appreciation as he heard the gasps for air still coming from his lover while he washed the remains of the whipped cream from his organ and abdomen. When he was finished with his ablutions, he returned to the side of the bed to look down upon his conquest.

  “How are you faring, my lovely?” he queried her as he massaged his own organ.

  Angeline looked up in dazed wonder, her eyes wide, her whole body rosy. Still too exhausted and stunned to speak, she simply nodded her head and watched him hold his sex.

  “I am afraid, my love, that I have yet to come to you. So if you don’t mind . . .” he said as he lay upon her, holding his weight on his elbows and positioning his throbbing sex between her legs. “I feel we have one more task to complete before we can close Lesson Three.” Then, nudging her gently apart, he eased himself home, sighing with the sensations that swept through him with the feel of her tight, wet, still palpitating sheath wrapped around him.

  “Oh, Angeline, I could have you every night and never be tired of the heat of you, your wetness. I thought I might drown when you came in my face. You flooded me with your love juices and still you have more to make me feel welcome. Oh, Angeline,” his voice became rougher as he thrust deeply into her, in and out, in and out, building his own tension and bringing her, once again, to the verge.

  Angeline was climbing, wanting the feeling of him, forgetting the discomfort she had earlier in the day. Now there was nothing she wanted more than to feel this man inside her, pumping into her, needing her, taking her. She spasmed once more.