Wanton Widows: Three Short Regency Romps (2 page)

She took his cock in her hand. How long she
had waited to see and feel one of these? One that worked. It lay there hard and
heavy in her palm. She wanted it now!

She wanted to experience what it could do. She
knew enough about the tension leading up to coupling, but she wanted to know
what it actually felt like! Why was he delaying? He was still kissing her and
his hand was making her slick and ready. The tension was excruciating. “Now,”
she breathed against his mouth. She was starving for this.

“Right now, my lady?” He sounded a little
bemused.

“Yes!”

“As you request.” He lifted her slight form
against him.  She held onto his solid shoulders and gripped her legs around
his. Her dress, ruckled around her waist, rustled. He slid her down until she
felt his cock against her entrance. Taking her weight in one arm, he guided his
cock into her.

There was resistance, a straining, then he was
in her. But he paused. “Don’t stop!” she moaned. Her back rested against the
door, her legs were locked around him. He gave a few thrusts, then groaned with
frustration and took two steps to the table beside the doorway. He sat her near
its edge. Her arms were clamped around his neck as he thrust deeply in her. The
tension in her body travelled up her spine, pooling in the base of her brain,
spiralling deeper and deeper. Through her half-closed eyes he looked as lost in
the moment as she felt.

A flash of light burst in her head as the
tension shattered. She gasped and moaned.

Sir Nicholas made one more thrust and groaned
out his completion. His forehead rested against hers as he gulped deep
lungsful, obviously fighting to bring his breathing back to normal. He released
her.

As her heart rate slowed back to normal, she
pulled her thoughts together as she tugged her silk dress over her hips and
down her legs. At last! She had achieved her long-sought after goal. Elation
filled her blood with bubbles of joy.

Then, she focused on the man. He was
undoubtedly the best choice she could have made in that ballroom … but he
didn’t look or sound so happy. He looked at her with hard eyes. What was he
thinking?

What was he asking her?

“You have some explaining to do,
Lady
Caroline! What Banbury tale have you told me? If you think you can dupe me into
a marriage because I’ve deflowered you, you’re mistaken. I’m married, your
ladyship, married! With a contract in front of God that can’t be broken, except
by Parliament, requiring a lot of money and even more shame.”

“Married? Again? To you?” She laughed.
“Never.”

“So, who are you? You can’t be Lady Caroline
Newberry. She married a decade ago.”

“Yes, I did.”

“Then how is it that you are a virgin, madam?”
He seemed affronted by her former state of being.

“Unlike you,
my
husband was not so able
to do his husbandly duty.”

A light of understanding showed in his dark
eyes. “Ah.”

Now you comprehend me. “Ah, indeed,” she
answered. “I’m obliged to you, for your services.”

“You ought to have warned me.” He looked
annoyed.

“And would you have assisted me then? I think
not.”

“However, in the future, I shall be happy to
indulge you … at any time, my lady.” He performed a sweeping bow.

“Really, sir?” She eyed him with speculation.
She had been more than pleasantly surprised by his expertise and was tempted.
“I’ll let you know if your services are required.” She turned to leave.

“Allow me to escort you back to the ballroom,
Lady Caroline.”

She turned back to laugh at him. “You might
wish to dress before you do so.” She smiled as she surveyed his physique. Oh
yes, she had chosen well.

He pulled his shirt over his head and put on
the waistcoat and coat. His cravat took several attempts to re-tie, but he
couldn’t reinstate its earlier perfection. She batted his hands away and pushed
his chin high, so her fingers could tie and arrange the linen cloth unhampered
by his interference.

“A useful skill,” he commented. “Thank you.”

“Nine years of practice on my husband, of
course.”

“And are you looking for another husband to
replace the faulty one?”

“Not unless I can guarantee he’s fit and able
in every way.”

He laughed. “Are you going to sample every
potential husband that you meet?”

She flicked a cheeky look at him. “Not every
one … only the short-listed ones.”

“You have a novel approach to courtship.” His
smile was wry.

“Well, the usual one wasn’t successful, so it
seemed sensible to try another way. I don’t think you have suffered by it, and
you’re not even in the running, as I know you’re married and altar-shy.”

He strode to the door, reefed it open and
walked briskly towards the stairs.

Stunned, Caroline demanded, “Where are you
going?”

His voice carried up from the stairwell. “To get
a divorce. Don’t sample any more candidates while I’m gone.”

By Isabella Hargreaves

Arabella Linfield looked out the window of the
carriage as it swayed to a halt in front the Grosvenor Square mansion of
Jerome, Earl Linfield.

The Earl opened the door and jumped onto the
footpath, then turned to assist her.

“Welcome to your new home, my dear.” His
handsome face was lit by a broad grin and framed by his curly brown hair.

She smiled up at him. “I can’t wait to be
alone with you at last.” They had been married for eight short hours. She
wanted him. Her parents had made the wedding reception beautiful but it had lasted
too long and now it was well into the evening.

This was her second marriage. Her beloved
William had died at Waterloo three years ago. They had been married only six
months – hardly time to get to know one another and share their love, but
enough time to have missed him ever since. Afterwards she had returned to her
parents’ home.

The front door of the mansion opened and the
butler greeted his master. Jerome scooped Arabella into his arms. She laughed
in surprise. Happiness effervesced through her.

He set her down and introduced the long line
of waiting servants. Before they could ascend the stairs, his man of business
requested a few minutes of his time and Jerome ordered the housekeeper to show
Arabella to her bedchamber in the master suite.

Arabella looked around the imposing space with
its four poster bed, its own fireplace, dainty yellow wallpaper and deep, thick
carpet. It was luxurious. She noticed the ornate doorway on her right, which
must lead to her husband’s room.

Footmen carrying her baggage followed her into
the room, quickly depositing their loads and leaving with the housekeeper, who
bobbed a quick curtsy as she departed. Mary, her maid, began unpacking
Arabella’s clothing and laid out her new nightgown. It wasn’t virtuous white or
unimaginative cream. It was red – uninhibited red – and silk. Her mother had
protested when she ordered it, but if petticoats could be red, then why not
nightgowns?

Arabella washed and changed into her glamorous
night-rail then sat patiently as Mary brushed out her hair into long waves.
Afterwards she dismissed her maid, telling her she wouldn’t be needed for the
remainder of the night.

For long minutes Arabella sat at her dressing
table. With a sigh she rose to wander around the room, examining the ornaments
occupying the mantelpiece and recessed shelves. The Ormolu clock struck the
hour. It was late. Impatient, Arabella decided to wait in Jerome’s room for him,
knowing something important must have delayed him. She turned the doorknob to
his chamber and passed through his dressing room. The scent of shaving soap
pervaded the room.

The space beyond was a vast chamber like her
own. It was lit only by the moon shining through the open curtains. She inched
through the unfamiliar space towards the wooden four poster bed, which was much
larger than her own. The covers were turned down, so she slipped between the
sheets. She expected them to be chilly but they weren’t. She wriggled towards
the middle of the bed and gasped in surprise.

Jerome was already there. She could see his
tightly curling hair where it fell in ringlets across his forehead. Why was he
in bed already? He must have been so tired after returning from his estate in
the early hours of this morning.

When she slid her hand along the smooth warm
skin of his back, he roused from his nap. “Hello,” he muttered. “My goddess.”
His voice was thick with sleep. “Where have you been?” He drew her into his
arms and kissed her brow.

“Waiting for you, of course. I thought you
were busy.”

“Never too busy for you,” he murmured.

“I want you.”

“And I, you.” His voice was becoming clearer
as he woke.

She kissed his mouth and relaxed into his strong
arms. The fresh scent of his shaving soap tickled her nose. At last she could
show her love. Their engagement had been short, because Jerome didn’t want to
compromise her reputation by sharing her bed before their marriage, even though
their haste meant his brother, who was overseas, missed their wedding.

The silk of her nightgown slipped around her
hips as she slid closer to him. He was naked beneath the covers. She didn’t
know he slept that way! Her breathing quickened in anticipation.

His lips were warm and compelling on hers. She
responded with open-mouthed lust. Her tongue slid across his lips, begging them
to open and let her in. He complied. He tasted of the mulled wine he must have
drunk before coming to bed. The spices excited her mouth.

She slipped her bended leg over his narrow hip
as he lay facing her. He ran his hand up from her ankle to her hip. Beneath her
silk nightgown his fingers trailed a path of goosebumps along her leg. He
paused to explore her buttock then traversed her back in a long sweeping arc.
Taking her heavy breast, he weighed it in his hand and lightly squeezed it.
“You’re beautiful,” he said. “Why did it take me so long to find you?”

“You have me now,” she said, with a soft
laugh.

“Mmmm,” he murmured. “Don’t go. I want you. But
if I fall asleep I might never find you again.”

“You’re still tired. Let me.”  Kissing him,
she rolled him onto his back and followed to lie across his chest, her lips
exploring his. She crept her hand along his coarse-haired leg to gently cup his
testicles. He groaned. Arabella trailed her fingers up the length of his hard
cock, stopping to tease its head. She was throbbing for him. His own hand
sought her core and stroked her there. She was slick and wet. Desire flared
through her body, centred on his hand.

Strong arms scooped her on top of him. His
cock pressed for admittance and she shifted to allow him in. She exhaled with
delight and began a slow rhythmical massage of his shaft. He growled in
appreciation. His hands continued their erotic sweeps over her skin. Their
kisses paused. Tension gripped her and her breathing quickened.  Eyes closed,
her back arched with ecstasy as she came. She exhaled a long sigh of
satisfaction, of fulfilment. She opened her eyes to see him lying in the gloom
beneath her, smiling.

“Happy?”

“Oh, yes.” She couldn’t help her satisfied
grin. “Now for your turn.”

He drew her down against him. She felt the
light, springy curls on his chest tickle her breasts before he distracted her with
a kiss.

He rolled them onto her back and kissed her fiercely
before making her cry out in ecstasy once more. He collapsed onto her with a
groan of completion. “My goddess from above,” he murmured. “I’ve dreamed of
you.”

Her expectations were more than fulfilled.

They drew apart. Arabella sighed with
satisfaction and snuggled into his chest, clasped within the circle of his
strong arms. She would stay with him until he fell asleep again.

When she heard his breathing turn deep and
even, she slipped from his bed and returned to her own room. In a haze of
satiated love, she washed and prepared for bed. Once there, she lay smiling in
the darkness as she relived their lovemaking, but her eyes soon closed.

Arabella felt she had only been asleep for a
few moments before the mattress sank down, waking her.

Jerome joined her in bed. “At last.”

In the dim light of the candle he had placed
on the mantelpiece, she saw his smiling face.

“God, I want you, Arabella. I’ve waited so
long. I don’t think I could ever get enough of you.”

He wanted her again! Arabella opened her arms
to him. “Mmm. More.” Arabella thrilled to his touch. He ran his hands over her
silk nightdress, peeling it from her body in a deft movement. And then she was
naked in his arms. He drew her close and kissed her mouth.

She feathered her fingers down his bare spine
tracing each vertebrae until she reached his firmly-muscled buttocks. She
explored the plains of one cheek then traced a line beneath where his thigh
joined.

His lips stroked hers while his hands caressed
her body. He broke their kiss to suckle each of her breasts in turn. His tongue
was warm on her nipples. Each hardened in his mouth, sending a shaft of desire
coursing through her belly, coming to rest like a heavy ache between her
thighs.

His freshly-washed skin smelt of some expensive
fragrance mingled with that of shaving soap. Its warm scent ignited her senses.

His lips, firm and warm, coaxed hers open. Her
tongue flicked into his mouth to dance with his. He tasted of tooth powder and
lust. She arched closer, intent on showing her love again.

He sent his hands on a slow quest over her
hips, where he drew swirls, before rounding her plump posterior - where he
gently massaged that muscle. They travelled lower, exploring and moving on. She
whimpered with frustration. His hand cupped her before he touched his goal. So
sensitive. She shivered.

He kissed down her belly, stopping to flick
his tongue into her naval before resuming his journey. His tongue found her
core and worked its magic, until she bucked on the bed.

He chuckled, then retraced his path upwards.

She held his hard cock in her hand, her
fingers playing up and down its shaft. “I want you,” she breathed.

“Yes.”

She drew him to her and his rigid cock slid
smoothly into her. Bliss.

He gave a tentative thrust as he kissed her.
She urged him on into a rhythm that gathered pace with each moan she made. The
slide and suck of their bodies joining, and their harsh breathing, filled the
air.

They pounded together to climax. Arabella
screeched her release until he swallowed the sound with his mouth on hers,
before he gasped his climax. “I love you,” he growled.

Breathless, they lay in each other’s arms, his
weight pinning her to the feather down mattress. Arabella smiled into the near
darkness.

They woke again in the early hours of the morning
to make love again.

It was late morning when Arabella woke to find
Mary shaking her shoulder. She rolled over and stretched. She felt good.

Fulfilment … at last.

She smiled in recollection of her husband’s
love-making – his ability to bring her to satisfaction so many times in short
succession thrilled her. Jerome’s performance forecast a happy future together.
She drank the teacup full of sweet, creamy chocolate her maid handed her.

Downstairs later, she pushed open the heavy
timber door to the breakfast room to reveal Jerome standing before the servery
with his back to her. She stepped into the room, moving forward to kiss him.
She stopped a step away – something wasn’t right about him. She frowned in
confusion. His coat was unfamiliar and he didn’t have his usual immaculate
look.

Then he turned towards her and a look of astonishment
crossed his face. She stared at him in bewilderment.

Then a voice from the head of the table said,
“Arabella, come and join us.” Jerome stood and circled the table towards her.
Arabella looked from her husband to his double. Jerome put his arm around her
and whispered in her ear, “You were wonderful last night.”

Together they faced the stranger. “Allow me to
introduce my twin brother, Jeremy. He returned unexpectedly yesterday from his
study tour in Greece, where he’s been for the last twelve months.” Arabella
could feel her mouth sagging open, reflecting her surprise.

As Jeremy took her hand and kissed it,
Arabella closed her gaping mouth with an audible snap. She dredged up a stunned
smile for him. “I didn’t know.” She turned to her husband. “I didn’t know your
brother was an
identical
twin.”

Jerome looked surprised. “Did I not tell you?”
He shrugged. “Our engagement was so short, perhaps I overlooked that detail.
There are twins throughout our family. Our father had an identical brother
also.” He dismissed the subject as if it was commonplace. “Jeremy shares our
love of antiquities. I envy his freedom to undertake long study tours while I must
remain here managing the estate and attending parliament. He’s just been
telling me about his latest trip.”

Arabella’s gaze travelled from her husband’s
brown eyes to his brother’s matching ones. Apart from Jeremy’s tanned face and
hands, and a few more wrinkles around his eyes, there was nothing to
distinguish the brother from her husband.

Jeremy returned her attention with a perplexed
look on his face. “I apologise for missing your wedding. I really had no idea
my brother was getting married.”

“I didn’t expect you home for a few more
months. Why the change of plan?” said Jerome.

“I can’t explain it. Something was drawing me
here, telling me to come home. If only I had arrived one day earlier, I would
have attended your wedding and all would be well.”

“All is well! I take no offence at your
missing it and I’m sure Arabella feels the same.” Jerome glanced towards her
and she nodded.

Jeremy spoke up. “Lady Linfield … Arabella … I
look forward to showing you the sketches from my latest travels.” His look was
neutral and his tone friendly.