Authors: Raven McAllan
Chapter Fifteen
It
seemed as if all the gods had smiled down on him and granted him this one
perfect day to make his bid for her allegiance. Here in the countryside with
the sun beating down on them, and no worries about prying eyes, he noticed
Sybille visibly relax. It brought home to him how worried she was about
everything. Bankfoot, the pearls—
him
.
Sadly he couldn’t leave any of the subjects alone. They all needed attending to
and soon. However for the next few hours he could focus on something else, something
she wanted. Or he hoped she still did.
To
become his. Strange that the rest of his life rested on how he would perform
and reassure her they meshed. That their love life would be good, get better,
and enhance their married life. Even stranger was the fact he was beginning the
attempt before they were wed. If
that
tasty
tidbit of information became general knowledge the gossipmongers would have a
field day.
“Oh,
how gorgeous. Is that where we are headed?” Sybille tightened her grip on his
arm and pointed ahead with her free hand. “Is it a folly?”
“It
is.”
I hope what we’re about to do is not
.
“Built as a retreat for the lady of the house to follow her pastimes. She was
said to enjoy sketching.” They had reached the entrance to the octagonal stone
building with its wide windows and grassy lawn. To one side, a copse of trees
sheltered it from any wind, to the other the ground fell away in a long
undulating slope, with a vista of green fields, dotted with cattle, crops and
woods. It was a true rural idyllic setting.
“Well
the view is perfect,” Sybille said as he ushered her inside and she went to
stand in front of one of the windows.
He
rested his laden basket on the side table put there for the very purpose, and
took out a bottle of wine from the ice his housekeeper had thoughtfully
provided.
Thom
was grateful the icehouse wasn’t totally depleted. In a warm summer the
icehouse of such a small estate would be hard pressed to deliver until the next
cold snap. He put the bottle onto the surface, picked up two glasses and waved
them in query. She nodded, and he filled the glasses and handed one over to
Sybille.
“As
far as I can tell the lady in question didn’t bother overmuch with the view of
the countryside.”
“No?”
Sybille raised her eyebrows in query. “How could she not?” She lifted her glass
to her lips.
“She
preferred life studies to that of still life.”
“Life…?
Ah…” Sybille spluttered into her glass and giggled. “Any idea whose body was
chosen?”
Thom
grinned. “Whichever lover was in favor, I believe. Be warned, the only body you’ll
study is mine.”
He
waited as she shook with laughter, swallowed and then boldly looked him over
from head to feet.
“Oh
I do hope so.” Her stomach growled and she rolled her eyes. “I think I need to
eat.”
“Not too much, one should never fu…er make
love after eating over much. Indigestion is a mood killer if anything is.” He
ignored her gasp, which was followed by the most erotic gurgle of laughter and tightened
his muscles. His staff was so hard he hoped to hell he didn’t accidentally hit
it. There was a good chance it would snap in half if he did. Thom made a mental
note to explain to Sybille how she affected him, before he showed her how to
address the issue.
“I’ll
be sure to partake sparingly. Just enough not to lose concentration on the
matter in hand.”
He
swore she winked.
“Why
not sit?” Thom waved toward the overlarge arm chair to one side of the day bed,
both set at an angle so the view could be admired but the occupants not seen
from outside—unless you stood right under the window and stared in. As the
ground fell away, the peeping tom would need to be a giant.
“Let
me serve you.” He groaned at his double entendre as Sybille sniggered, and then
drank some wine.
“Yes
please
.” Her inference was clear. She
ran her tongue around her lips. “Oh very nice.”
With
every second that passed Thom began to realize how much fun he was having and
just how entertaining Sybille was. Now she was back to the normal feisty
humorous Sybille he’d fallen in love with, he intended to keep her like that.
“We’ll
have a taster.” He moved across from the table, to where she stood, plucked her
glass from her hand and rested it on the shallow windowsill. She did the erotic
tongue swipe again and lowered her lashes in a parody of demureness. “Of?”
“This.”
Thom took hold of one of her hands and rested it over his pantaloon-covered
cock. Her fingers tightened on the bulge. When he moved his hand, she kept hers
where he’d put it. Tight around his staff.
“Very
nice, my lord. But how do I taste?” She lifted her dark lashes, and her blue
eyes gleamed like the sky outside. He was going to have to ask her just what
she did to her lashes to get them that enticing shade.
“That
taste is not on today’s menu. This is.” He lowered his head and took the two
steps forward to bring her body within inches of his. Her fingers tightened on
him, and with her free arm she circled his neck. Interested to see what she
would do next, Thom stood passive and waited.
Sybille
stood unmoving for long seconds until, he thought, he’d have to take the
initiative. Then she sighed. “Show me how to taste?”
“Like
this.” He moved the last inch until her hand was trapped between them, held her
bottom to anchor her and ran his tongue around her lips in the same way she had
done to herself earlier. They quivered under his touch, and parted. Thom took
advantage and deepened the kiss. Sybille made low, erotic moans and mewls, and
circled his tongue with hers.
Thom
broke the kiss and carefully walked her backward until her legs hit the chair.
He pushed on her shoulder and winked as she fell back into it. The soft cushions
sank as she wriggled and settled into them, and looked up at him as he towered
over her.
“Food
for the body or food for the soul?” Her voice was shaky. A bit like he felt.
“Your
choice.”
“Then
please let’s feed our souls? While we can.” Sybille held her hands out in
supplication. “Time is passing.”
It was. Nevertheless, he had no intention of
informing her that a lot more had to pass before she was expected back at with
her parents’ and he hoped she would enjoy the surprise.
“So
be it. Eat this wafer as you sip your wine, and let me…” He paused. How could he
say to set the scene without sounding oily and villainous?
“Prepare,”
he said finally. He opened the wicker basket and handed Sybille a wafer and a
pastry.
She
took them and had a hefty bite out of the pastry. Thom followed suit as he
removed soft jewel colored pillows from out of a cupboard and placed them along
the head of the bed.
“This
is magnificent.” Sybille mumbled the words through a mouthful of pastry. “Just
enough so my tummy doesn’t interrupt us. Whoever made this is a gem, keep hold
of her.”
“I
intend to. Tate and Mrs. Tate are the cornerstones of this estate. It may be
small, but it is important to me. Perhaps after today, it will hold an even
closer space in my heart.”
She
blushed. Thom laughed and stroked her cheek. Sybille swallowed the rest of her
pastry, took a drink of wine and handed him her glass. “Almost ready, er
except…” She circled one hand in the air.
“Ah.”
Thom was never more thankful that Mrs. Tate had proudly shown him the discreet outhouse.
It seemed the Lady of the Manor had been born well before her time.
“Outside,
to the left.”
Sybille’s
cheeks were as red as the cushions he‘d just placed nearby. She thrust her
glass at him, stood up and brushed her dress down, and hurried from the gazebo.
Thom
put both glasses on the table and took himself outside, via a window—not the
one with a death drop beyond it—to a convenient bush. Well away from where she
headed.
Chapter
Sixteen
Sybille
wondered how on earth she’d got out of the gazebo without stumbling. Of course
he knew all about the need to relieve oneself. It wasn’t purely a woman’s necessity.
But neither was it something generally discussed. She washed her hands in the
ewer of water provided and gave thanks to the unknown Mrs. Tate once more,
before she made her way back inside.
As
she entered the gazebo, Thom stood next to the door and kicked it shut behind
her. He moved behind her and pulled her back to rest on against him.
“Mine.”
His arms circled her loosely, his hands warm on her tummy.
Just
one word, but spoken in such a way as to send shivers down her spine and dampen
the curls at the apex of her thighs. His fingers splayed over her, and his breath
was warm on her neck.
“Yours.”
“Let
me show you how you are mine.” Thom didn’t wait for her to answer but undid the
tiny buttons that caressed her spine. His fingers stroked her skin as he maneuvered
the fastenings and bared her back to the warm afternoon.
Outside
a bird tweeted, and the hum of bees on the flower-clad walls was loud in the
somnambulant air. It was, Sybille decided romantic—and almost designed
especially for them.
She
dropped her head forward to allow Thom easier access as he pressed soft kisses
to every place his fingers touched. As he inched her gown over her shoulders,
his kisses followed that movement as well.
Her
skin was on fire and she had a semi hysterical thought that once he freed her arms
from her gown only her rock hard nipples would hold it in place. Could she
command them to let it go?
“Such
soft skin, but I need to see and feast on even more.” Thom slid the sleeves of
her dress to her wrists and over her hands.
The
softly scalloped neckline rested on the swell of her breasts one eighth of an
inch the correct side of decency.
“Shake your head.” Thom plucked the pins from
her hair as he spoke.
Eh?
However she did as he demanded. As
her hair tumbled to her shoulders, the bodice of her dress left her breasts and
ended in a crumpled heap around her waist. Within seconds her chemise followed
it.
He
bent his head and for the first time in her life someone other than herself
touched her breasts. It was no innocent brush of his lips. Thom took one nipple
in between his thumb and forefinger and rubbed and teased it. The other he
pulled into his mouth and suckled. Not like a babe, but like a man in need of a
feast. Someone who worshipped her body and gloried in it.
His
mouth was hot and demanding. Her body pleaded to do as he wished. All Sybille
wanted was whatever was next, and more of the same. When he moved his hand from
her breast, she sobbed.
“Shhh,”
Thom lifted his mouth just enough to soothe her. “I need to take off your
dress. Stay as you are.” He stroked her hair. “Now, sweet Sybille will you help
me in another way?”
“Ye…sss,
oh …” She sighed and waited.
“So
good. Touch yourself. Keep yourself warm for me.”
What? How? As if I’m alone? Ah I cannot.
Thom
gently lifted her hand to cover her breast. It was almost as if he could read
her mind. “You can,” he said gently. “You
are
doing. Sweet Sybille, it is perfect. There, your hand warms you there, as I
will warm you elsewhere.” He rolled her gown and chemise further downward. Over
her hips, across her mound and down her thighs. The materials were cool on her
fevered skin, the slight friction they created added to her already heightened
senses. Her skin prickled and she caught her breath. It was difficult even to breathe;
every fiber of her being was concentrated on Thom. On his actions, his words
and his strength.
Even
her fingers seemed to have a mind of their own, as she fondled her breast. Yes,
it was something she had done before. Something to discover how her body
responded to thoughts and touch. But never in her wildest dreams did she expect
to do something so outrageous in front of a man. Especially the man who
declared he wanted her to give herself to him.
“Step
out of your clothes.” Thom steadied her as she did as he asked. “Perfect. You
are perfection, my lady.” He kissed the nape of her neck. “I ache to make you
mine.”
Sybille
swayed at the tone in his voice. He sounded in awe. Surely not? She blinked and
turned around to look at him. Apart from his jacket, he was fully clothed. “You’re
dressed.” She winced as she stated the obvious.
“Remedy
it.”
Me? Oh my.
Where
to start? The glint in his eyes goaded her. Sybille was never one to turn down
a challenge. She looked at him steadily, and was rewarded by a wash of color
that flowed over his face.
“Oh
I will.” Could humans purr? She wanted to. “Lift your arms.” Was that husky
feline voice really hers?
A
faint smile flickered across his lips as he complied and Sybille slowly untied
the laces at his throat and parted the neckline. Hairs showed in the gap and
she itched to curl them around her fingers and test their wiry strength.
Later.
With
more haste than finesse, she un-tucked his shirt from his pantaloons, lifted
the hem and pulled the soft, fine, linen garment over his head.
Even
without those rivulets of water that drew your eyes downwards, his chest was
magnificent. Without an inch of fat on him, Thom was muscular, well-proportioned
and made her mouth dry. Sybille gave into temptation and pressed a soft kiss to
his chest. He smelled of man, earthy, but not unpleasant.
“You
know, a man’s body is as receptive as a woman’s.”
“Pardon?”
“Sensitive,
needy, wanting. My body. Think of where you like to be touched, I’m the same.”
“On
your ear?” She giggled as his eyes widened.
“Like
this?” He pinched her lobe. “Why not? However, I have other places to touch and
taste, and hope you’ll return the favor. Later.”
“Then,”
Sybille looked at his feet, “take your boots off. Oh lord, can you? Without
help?”
Thom
laughed. “I’m not such a pathetic case, of course I can. Although, I do have a
confession to make.” He waited for two of her heartbeats. “There is a boot jack
in the corner.”
“Maybe
you best use it.”
He
inclined his head, and did as she asked. As he bent over to use the jack, his
rear in her direction, Sybille feasted on the sight. Was it wrong to lust after
a man, when all you were looking at was a cloth-covered bottom?
Boots
discarded Thom turned toward her. “You’re shivering. Slide under the cover on
the bed.”
“Only
if you join me?” He was correct. She shook but not from cold. From anticipation,
excitement, and the knowledge that soon, very soon she would be his.
“Oh
there’s no doubt about it.”
She
could sense him watching her as she got under the cover and propped herself on
the pillows he’d put there not long before. Once she was settled, Thom nodded.
“Good
girl. I’ll join you in a trice.” He lifted the spindly-legged table that held
the wicker basket, and the wine nearer. “Now where were we? Ah yes you were
undressing me. However, I think I’ll do the next bit. Otherwise your education
might push ahead faster than either of us anticipated.” He gestured to the
bulge in his pantaloons. “My pego is so desirous of making your acquaintance, I
might spill before he gets the chance.”
Sybille
nodded, although she wasn’t really sure what he meant.
Thom
grinned, as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of his pantaloons and
inched them over his cock. “When a man is as excited as I am, sometimes he can
spill his seed even before he enters a woman. Now we all know it is preferable
to withdraw from her so…” He stopped. “Ah, do you understand what I mean?”
“Well,
of course. If you don’t want a child on the wrong side of the blanket you don’t
sow your seed in fertile ground.”
Thank goodness
for those pamphlets.
“So you withdraw.”
Thom
finished taking off his clothes. “Exactly.” He collected a ewer of water and a
towel, and put them next to the wine. As he moved, his pego bobbed and swayed.
Almost as if it is introducing
itself.
Sybille mentally scoffed at herself. Giving a man’s
staff a mind of its own. What next? Imagining it was about to speak?
Thom
lifted the covers and crawled onto the bed next to her. “Let me warm you up.”
“I’m
not… ah well ohhh my…” She spluttered to a halt as he took her nipple into his
mouth and tugged. A hot flame of awareness streaked through her. She moved her
legs restlessly, searching for a way to relieve the ache in between her thighs.
“Wait,
my love.” Thom moved his ministrations to her other breast. He stroked her
belly in soft soothing circles and edged his fingers lower, to ruffle the curls
that covered her mound. “So beautiful.”
Sybille
moaned. The soft voice teased her senses once more as she arched up into his
hand.
“Slowly,
love.”
It
was as if she sat beside the bed, watching them. Thom kicked the covers to the
bottom of the bed, and parted her legs with his thigh. Then she not only saw in
her mind, but also felt one long, elegant finger enter her. She gasped. It was
oh so different from anything she had sought to do to herself.
He
paused. “All right? Tell me if not.”
“Oh
so very right. I want more.”
“Impatient.”
He kissed her nose. “All things come to…”
“Those
who wait. I have waited.”
“So
you have.” He added another finger, and then, as she clenched and relaxed her
muscles around him, touched her nub with his thumb.
Tremors
rushed through her and she writhed and arched off the bed. Thom held her down
and increased the pressure. “Fly for me, my love.” He nipped her nipple with
his teeth.
That
connection from breast to where his fingers teased and pushed, increased
tenfold.
Lights
flashed before her eyes, stars danced in front of her, and her body was on
fire. She was falling over the edge and into that place where nothing mattered
except them.
With
a keening cry, Sybille fell into the abyss.