Mistletoe Menage (5 page)

He nodded.

“Would that please you?” she
asked.

He allowed his eyes to rest upon
her breasts and watched as her rapid heartbeat made the soft ivory flesh quiver
enticingly. She had large, full breasts and he longed to see them without their
purple satin covering. Would her nipples be pale or dark?
Small
or full round nubs that he could take into his mouth and tease with his tongue?

“Then I would not want to hide
whatever it is you need to see to complete your art, Guy.” Anne rose to her
feet and reached for his hands. “But I will require your assistance.”

Blood rushed to his loins and as
he stood in front of her, he saw her lower her eyes. He was blessed with length
and girth that many men would envy, and he knew how to use his cock to pleasure
the subject of his attentions, whether man or woman. Right now, he would like
nothing more than to strip Anne of her clothing then bend her over the chaise
and bury himself deep inside her. But that was not how this would work. He was
to win her heart before he took her body. Or rather, before Edward took her
body. So win her heart he would.

He just hoped that in the process
she wouldn’t win his as well.

****

Anne turned in front of Guy then
lifted her hair to allow him to access the back of her gown. She took a deep
breath and held it as she felt him undoing the buttons. When he moved his hands
to her shoulders, her legs began to tremble. Then he stopped.

“Anne. Are you well?” His breath
was hot on the back of her neck.

“Yes, Guy. Why do you ask?”

“Are you certain about this?”

“Yes.” She pressed her lips
together. This was against all that society would dictate to a woman as
acceptable behavior and against everything that she had been taught was
correct. Yet it did not feel wrong. She wanted this—though what it would amount
to in full she did not yet know—and being aware that others did such things had
diminished her inhibitions. Other women, women of higher social standing and
breeding than her and married
women
whose husbands
still lived, were indulging themselves with Guy Harper. So then why should she,
a widow, deny herself such pleasure? She had spent her whole life denying her
own wants and needs, even married a man she didn’t love, not in the way that
she believed a woman should love her husband. And now she felt she was entitled
to have something for herself, even if it was a brief, illicit affair with an
artist. At least she would feel alive for a while.

Anne edged her gown off her
shoulders and sighed as Guy pushed it down to her feet. She stepped out of it
then kicked it away. Though Guy stood behind her, Anne was filled with a sense
of frivolity at being alone with a gentleman while dressed in just her chemise,
stays, petticoat, and stockings. She had started, so she would continue.

She lifted her petticoat over her
head and dropped it onto her dress. “Will you unlace me?” she asked Guy. There
was a moment’s pause before he tugged at the laces of her stays and she felt
herself released from the garment that lifted and separated her heavy breasts.
Guy loosened the stays enough so that they too dropped to her feet and she
stood naked except for her sheer chemise and stockings.

Then she turned to face him.

Guy’s mouth fell open as he
stared at her, and Anne was consumed by a sense of power. Alfred had told her
she was beautiful, of course, but he had never looked at her as Guy did now. As
if he would eat her in one sitting,
were
it possible.

“Oh, Anne.
You are a fine woman indeed.” He roamed her body with his eyes and the hunger
she saw there made Anne’s heart soar. She was desirable then. She had once
believed she was, way back when she had fallen for Edward, but that was a long
time ago and she’d been forced then to relinquish her own desires for what
society dictated. She had been forced to surrender Edward because she was not a
suitable match for a Lord, the son and grandson of a landed family. The
remembered shame crawled over her and she had to mentally push it away. It was the
past and she would never allow such matters to hinder her happiness again. She
would not place herself in such a vulnerable position ever again.

“Is this enough?” she asked Guy.

“If this is what you wish to wear,
then let it be so.” Guy smiled. Before she walked back to the chaise, Anne peeked
at his groin. And there, beneath his fitted breeches, was that telltale bulge.
Yes, she felt powerful indeed knowing that she was having a physical effect
upon the handsome young man.

She perched on the edge of the
chaise and waited for Guy to sit upon the footstool. When he was ready, his
sketch once more upon his lap, she tugged her chemise up over her head then lay
back on the chaise. Naked apart from her silk stockings, she was suddenly
liberated beyond her wildest imaginings.

Guy stared at her for a moment
then flung his work to the floor and crossed to her side. He lowered to his
knees next to her and pulled her roughly toward him. She met his silver-blue
eyes and curled an arm around his neck,
then
she moaned
as he pressed his mouth to hers and kissed her.

At first, his kiss was soft, his
lips warm and gentle, but as he supported her head with one arm, he ran his
free hand down over her shoulder and cupped her breast. The sensation filled
Anne with longing and she gasped as he squeezed her erect nipple and tickled it
with his fingertip.

The he moved his hand lower and
Anne wriggled on the chaise. Guy cupped her bottom first, filling his hand with
her curved rear before sliding it over her rounded thighs. She pulled away from
his persistent mouth for a moment. “Touch me, Guy. Please. I need to be
touched.”

He grinned. “What the lady
wants…”

Anne kissed him again and he
plundered her mouth with his tongue, darting it in and out, and feathering it
over her eager lips. He stroked his hand over her belly, then lower and lower until
it nestled in the curls at the apex of her thighs. When he parted her legs, she
shivered with delight.

“Now, Anne. Let me show you what
a talented artist can do.”

Guy pulled her down so that she
was flat upon the chaise then moved around to the end where her feet rested. He
slid her toward him until her bottom was right at the edge and her legs hung
open. Anne thought she might know what he planned to do but she wasn’t sure.
She had heard the maids speak of such matters but Alfred had never performed
this act upon her.

Now Guy did.

He lowered his head and kissed
her curls and Anne trembled at the sweetness of his hot breath on her most
sensitive place. Then he used his one hand to part her lower lips and ran his
hot tongue over the needy flesh. When he touched her swollen bud, she sighed
with sheer pleasure.

Guy lifted his head. “One more
thing will make this even better for you,” he whispered then inserted a finger
into her heat before resuming his tender suckling of her lower lips. Each
flicker of his tongue and each ministration of his keen lips sent pleasure
shuddering through Anne’s body. She ran her hands over her breasts and pinched
at her nipples as Guy devoured her with the hunger of a man consumed by desire.

As he penetrated her with his
finger, she moved in time with him until she climbed to the point of pleasure.
Just as she felt she could take no more, Guy inserted another finger and the
pressure at her opening, combined with the relentless tonguing of her aroused
bud, sent her hurtling into a carnal climax from which there was no return. She
grabbed his blonde curls and bucked against him as wave after wave of pleasure
rocked her body and she contracted around his fingers as he pushed them deep inside
her.

“Thank you, Guy. Thank you so
much.” Anne flopped exhausted onto the chaise.
Such intense
and delightful sensations.
She had experienced things she had only ever dreamed
about. Guy moved away from between her legs and crawled around the chaise and
up to her side. He kissed her forehead gently and she smelled her own arousal
on his skin. It lifted her heart to know that he had been keen to offer her
such delights. That men could please women so intensely astonished her, yet
part of her knew that she had always suspected this could happen.

“I should be leaving soon.” Guy’s
words tore away her happiness and she sat upright, suddenly awkward in her
nudity. She covered her breasts with her arms and pulled her legs together.

“Already?”
She coughed to hide her embarrassment at the desperation in her voice.

“I am afraid so. I have an
engagement this evening.”

“Oh.” Did he have another lady
awaiting his attentions?
Would he go from her to do this to
another?
She shouldn’t care…Jane had warned
her this
would be so. Why, then, was she so disappointed? She had no claims upon him.
This was a business transaction, was it not? It would last as long as it took
him to paint her and then it would end.
Unless she
commissioned his services again.

“May I return soon to complete
another sketch? I feel that the more sketches I have the better equipped I will
be to capture your beauty.”

Anne met his eyes and smiled.
“That would please me greatly, Guy. When can you come next?”

He paused for a moment before
stroking her cheek softly. “I will write to you tomorrow to let you know when
I’m available.”

“Of course.”
Anne stood and reached for her chemise which she pulled on hurriedly. She was
keen now to cover herself, to resume the formality of clothing that would give
her strength against her sorrow. Had she imagined that Guy was enthusiastic as
he made love to her with his lips and his tongue? As he had kissed her, she’d
been certain that something more than desire consumed this handsome young man.
But now that her passion was spent, she was not so sure that she’d been right, not
so certain at all. And anyway, she had hired Guy knowing what he was and what
he did. She had no right wanting more than any other woman received from him.
It should be enough.

It
would
be enough.

She pulled her dress over her
head then turned her back on him and waited for him to do the buttons. When she
was fully clothed, she quickly pinned her hair and smoothed down her dress.

“I will wait to hear from you
then, Mr. Harper.”

“Mr. Harper?” he replied
frowning.

“I think that when we are…done
with sketching, it would be better if we remain formal. Do you not agree?” She
lifted her chin haughtily as she had seen other women do, but inside she ached
to fall into his embrace where she had felt such joy.

Guy bowed before her then
retrieved his hat and tucked his easel and his black case under his arm.

“Good day to you, Mrs.
Blackburn.”

“Good day, sir.”

As Guy left the room and the door
closed behind him, Anne sank onto the chaise and covered her face with her
hands. For some reason that she couldn’t fathom, she was catapulted into an
abyss of unpleasant emotions. She had just experienced the pleasures of the
flesh that she’d heard so much about and they had been as delightful as she had
hoped. She wanted to feel them again, of that she was certain. Yet she was also
plunged into a void of sorrow and isolation when Guy made it clear that he
would have to leave soon after. What would make this better?
If
he had held her close?
If he had stayed the night?
If he was, in fact, Edward?

“No.” She pressed her hand over
her lips. Edward Moore had long since vanished from her life. But now she realized
that she longed to see him again, maybe even to share her newfound knowledge
with him, to make love to him as she had once yearned to do.

A bizarre image sprang into her
mind and she gasped. Imagine if she were to have both Edward and Guy to
simultaneously lavish her with affection.

But it was a ridiculous fantasy
and it would never,
could
never happen—could
it?

Chapter Four

Edward paced up and down the
small room like a caged tiger. Where was Guy? Why hadn’t he returned yet? He
stripped off his jacket and cravat and flung them onto the chair in the corner,
then pulled off his boots and kicked them away.

He flung himself onto the bed and
covered his eyes with his arm. Damn this incessant waiting. He had to be
patient, he knew it, but he felt like he’d waited a lifetime already and every
day that kept him away from Anne was like a year to him.

He stretched his arms above his
head and sighed, long and deep. The knot in his stomach refused to budge and he
knew that until he saw her again, he would not feel better. His spirits would
not lift, and his horizon would not brighten. In all honesty, there had been a
permanent cloud there ever since he had returned from Kent to London to find
Ann already married to that aging merchant Blackburn. Why, oh why, had she done
it? Even after all these years, the pain was still sharp as a thorn in his
heart.

A gentle knock at the door
disturbed his thoughts.

“Yes?” His voice was gruff and
unwelcoming.

“May I come in, sir?” He
recognized the voice of the young wench he’d seen downstairs.

The door swung wide and she
peered around it. He watched as she stepped nervously into the room, a lamb to
the slaughter. He sat up and swung his legs over the bed.

“Mr. Wickes asked if you’ll be
requiring anything else this afternoon.” She bobbed a curtsy and he eyed her
small breasts which were exposed at the neckline. The fuchsia nipples were
visible each time she inhaled as they strained at their tight covering,
threatening to burst out at any moment.
A deliberate female
trick, no doubt.
He considered the prospect of taking her and easing
some of his pent-up frustration with her slim, young body, but he knew it wouldn’t
suffice. She would be insignificant and fucking her would only feed his hunger,
not dull it. He had no real use for women like her, none at all, because they
were not Anne, the full-bodied, chestnut-haired heartbreaker that she was. It
was Anne he longed to bed, not some scrawny wench without curves or a brain. He
wanted one woman only and no other would do. Yet he knew that when he did take
Anne to bed, it would not be tenderly or with love, but with a dark passion
that would punish her for her betrayal. But he was convinced that it would make
him feel better. It had to. Something had to ease his pain.