STORY EXCERPT

“Damnation, the bitch bit me!” A muffled shriek cut off as if someone had placed a large hand over a lady’s mouth, as indeed was the case.

The three large men raced for the stairs to the garden. In the soft moonlight, three ill-dressed ruffians were struggling with a woman, trying to drag her along the walk and toward the half-open garden gate leading to the street. The brothers launched themselves at the men who, when they saw them approaching, let the lady go. Bellowing, “This ain’t over, bitch!” they ran out of the gate and to the carriage that awaited them. The horses were whipped up, and it was soon lost to sight. It was useless to try and pursue it on foot.

The lady had sunk down onto one of the stone benches that flanked the gravel walk at intervals. She sat shivering, her chest heaving, with her head in her hands. Angel closed the gate, and they all three stood around her.

“Thank you so much, sirs,” she murmured. “I do not know what would have become of me had you not come to my rescue.” She shuddered. Rafael looked at her, frankly appraising her form and face, and liked what he saw. She was no simpering miss, and now, instead of indulging in a fit of the vapours as she had every right to do, she sat trying to compose herself. She had dark hair gathered in a knot on top of her head from which some curls had escaped in the struggle. The lovely arrangement of her hair was crowned with a scrap of lace, a cap. So she was no unmarried miss. Her eyes were large and brown with gold flecks and wide set under delicate, arched brows. Her nose was small and turned up slightly, but her mouth was too generous to be fashionable. Her lips were plump and rosy, but her little chin showed determination. Her neck was long and slender, and what skin could be seen was like porcelain. Her cheeks were like little rosy apples. She was of medium height and shapely, even a little on the plump side. Her breasts were large and firm, and her legs long and shapely. Her dress was fashionable, made of amber silk. It clung in all the correct places and it was low cut, but decorously so. Rafael was captivated. He could see she was not in the first flush of youth either and guessed her age to be twenty-five.

“Do you know those men?” Rafael asked.

He had taken her hand in his and was gently caressing the backs of her fingers in a soothing way. She did not notice or did not care to remove her hand just yet.

“No, indeed. I have no idea what they wanted with me. They said he had paid them well to take me to him.”

“Who? Did they name the man?” Rafael asked.

“No. They did, however, say it was not over.”

“I am sure that was just a remark to overset you, as they had failed in their attempt to take you tonight. They will hardly have the temerity to try again now that you are on your guard.”

Rafael said it, in an attempt to settle her feelings and not to worry her. He had seen the men and did not think they were the usual common thieves. They had known where to wait for her and had known enough to have the carriage waiting for them outside the garden gate. Presumably they had been prepared to wait for a long time as, from what they had said, it could be deduced that she and no other lady was their object. That said they would likely try again.

He noticed she had managed to tidy her hair, and he stood to escort her back to the ballroom. His brothers had scoured the garden and now returned to report nothing to be seen or heard.

He then introduced himself, and his brothers, and all three made a formal bow.

“I am Lady Alicia Fitzroy and honoured to make your acquaintance.” She dropped them a curtsey.

“We will escort you back to your husband.”

“Oh, but I do not have a husband. I am a widow and here in town staying with my aunt, Lady Gwendoline Ware, in Grosvenor Square.”

Rafael’s erection grew harder at that. She was a widow and she was available.

They had by now gained the terrace and the French doors to the ballroom. The three men escorted her to the sofa on which Lady Gwendoline sat chatting to other chaperones. They saw no need to make the incident the object of gossip and left it to her to mention it to her aunt or not as she saw fit.

Lady Gwendoline was in alt. She had seen her niece approaching with the de la Torre triplets and fully intended to make them known to her two daughters. She would never pass up such an opportunity, Rafael thought cynically, and indeed she waved imperiously, summoning her daughters.

“This is my elder daughter, Anna, and her sister Beatrice.”

As he had expected they simpered and giggled, and he felt the lead weight of boredom descend to his stomach. He and his brothers were too well bred to let their boredom show, however, so they chatted for a short while to the girls.

The musicians struck up a waltz, and the girls’ partners arrived to claim them. Lady Alicia held out her hand to Rafael, but he took it in his and said,

“Will you do me the honour of waltzing with me?”

ADULT EXCERPT

She sat on one end on the chaise longue, removing her gloves and laying them on the table. He gave her a glass of wine and held out a strawberry. When she would have taken it in her hand, he dipped it into his wine and set it to her lips. She bit into the sweet fruit, savouring the taste of it combined with the wine. As some of the juice escaped from the corner of her mouth, he wiped her lips delicately with a snow-white linen napkin. He began to feed her more strawberries and then dipped a small bunch of grapes into his glass. allowing her to take them with her lips one after another from the bunch. She enjoyed his feeding her and found it aroused her, too.

Abruptly he put down his glass and took hers from her by now nerveless fingers and, placing it beside his, he took both her hands in his and raised her to her feet. She looked into his eyes and was lost. His mouth descended on hers in a surprisingly tender kiss. In the split second before he kissed her she had thought he would be firm and forceful. She knew he was aroused, and his feeding her the fruit like that had left her in a parlous state. She wanted him, oh, how she wanted him, but she had made love to Rafael, who seemed to want her more and more, and now she was with his brother. She had to clear her mind and think, but then he kissed her tenderly and delicately, nibbling her lips and licking along the bottom one, and all power of coherent thought left her. He lifted one hand and pressed lightly on her chin to open her mouth and she offered no resistance. Oh, but she was wanton, she thought. This was not Rafael, but she could not stop kissing him.

“I want you!” He growled, and at the words, moisture flooded her pussy and her nipples pebbled.

He gathered her more tightly into his arms and settled to taste her, seemingly at his leisure. His tongue explored every inch of her mouth, and he tasted so good. The wine and fruit tastes mixed with his own essence, and she could not get enough of him. She pressed her swollen and aching breasts to his chest. Lifting one arm, she took the nape of his neck in her hand, held onto his lapel with the other, and kissed him back. He responded with ever-increasing ardour, pressing his thick erection into her soft body and tightening his hold on her. He rubbed her back in gentle circles with one hand and fisted the other in the curls that had escaped her fashionable top knot. He sat down upon the chaise longue and drew her onto his lap, all the while continuing the sinuous dance their tongues were engaged in. She felt his hand move to her breast and moaned into his mouth as his fingers lightly caressed her nipple then more firmly pressed and flicked it. She felt her bodice slowly open, revealing her chemise, which was easily lowered, and her breasts were exposed to the air and his questing hands. His fingers circled the nipples then brushed over them, and she arched her back, pressing the tips into his hands. She felt rather than heard his sigh of satisfaction. His hands began to play, moving from breast to breast and from gently brushing strokes to firm pinches, flicking first one then the other and at last squeezing until she cried out in pain, or was it pleasure? The one was so close to the other. He raised her to her feet and had her kneel on the chaise longue. She held tight to the back and tried to open her legs but found she could not. He stood straddling her thighs, pressing her knees together.

“What is he about?How could he?” Her thoughts were in chaos. He stood behind her and, leaning over, took both her breasts in his hands and continued the sweet torment until she writhed and pressed her bottom into his groin in such a suggestive way that he chuckled.

“Patience, my lady. It will be well worth the wait.”

She did not want to be patient. She squirmed and wriggled her behind, feeling his hot, thick erection, wanting it inside her without delay. Finally, he took hold of her thick hair, which by now had come loose, fisted one hand into it, and held her. She found she enjoyed the bite of pain. With the other hand, he guided his cock in between her legs and teased her entrance with it, rubbing against her swollen labia and her clit and driving her wild.

“Oh, please, please!” she cried, needing, wanting him inside her. She did not know how to ask or if she could ask.

She had been taken in this position before, but never like this, never with her legs pressed together. She could not move. She was powerless and at his mercy. Then he pressed in, and she felt the hot length enter her inch by delicious inch and sighed with relief. “At last!” The sensation was very different with her legs together. He kept on pressing into her until she felt the crisp hairs at his groin against her folds and her bottom. He was long and thick, and she struggled to accommodate him. Then when she thought he was all the way in and expected he would begin to withdraw and pleasure her, he thrust his hips forward and his cock even further inside her, and she gasped.