Manor of Pleasure: An Erotic Historical Romance (4 page)

CHAPTER SEVEN

Finding Rebecca's room had been easier than he assumed it would be. Desmond vaguely recalled the lay-out of the second floor from his time spent recovering from a fever as a boy of eleven.

It happened shortly after his first visit to Penhope Manor. He had been traveling with his solicitor father who was looking into legal matters regarding the transfer of the estate to John Garway.

Desmond was asked to play in the garden with a shy, eight-year-old girl with pink ribbons in her hair.

“
Aren't they beauties?” He leaned eagerly close to the water. “I'm going to stroke that one that's striped like a tiger—you watch me, Rebecca!”

She watched, and refrained from telling him to be careful. It was a word his father had used to suppress his boyishness, but even as Rebecca bit it back, there was a
splash and a yell and Desmond was in the
pond with his beloved fish. She pulled his small soaked body from the water, wiped the blood from a scratch on his temple with her handkerchief and called for help.

His memories of her from those times were bittersweet. At least four or five times he had observed her leaving her room, so genteel. She would smile; they would exchange pleasant greetings. Such trivial events were unforgettable for him, although he had tried to forget them at the time, desperately.

Stupidly, he had plagued himself for years with thoughts of her. He couldn't forget Rebecca. Now here he was thirteen years later.

Desmond opened the door quietly. The room was aglow in candlelight and the fire was burning brightly. Her scent lingered in the air, confirming the accuracy of his recollections.

He closed the door softly behind him. He could feel his heart beating against his chest as he examined the room.

Desmond felt oddly sinister. Of all of the places on earth, this was the one place where he should not be found out.

He walked up to her vanity and surveyed the colorful array of jars, hair combs and other trinkets. He selected a perfume bottle and examined it. He lifted the crystal stopper and placed his nose over the bottle, inhaling lightly. This was the one. He replaced the stopper and put the bottle down.

He reached into his dinner jacket for his handkerchief. Very quickly, he placed a drop of the perfume on the thin cloth. The liquid spread quickly through the light cotton square. He replaced the bottle and returned the handkerchief to his pocket. Now he should have her scent wherever he goes, he thought and smiled.

Desmond pulled out Rebecca's lucky charm from beneath his coat; a silver horseshoe she had given him during his convalescence as a boy. He knew it was foolish to credit the trinket with his recuperation and now his return all these years later as a man. All the same, he had guarded it zealously as if it held ancient powers.

He placed it on her vanity next to her hairbrush. Desmond was very pleased with his machinations. He looked about the room for concealment. He found it among the drapes and adjusted himself perfectly beneath the heavy fabric. His vantage point was marvelous. He would have to remain as silent and as still as the dead.

Desmond's timing could not have been more precise. Within seconds, Rebecca entered her room. She closed the door and walked to the fireplace, unsheathing her arms from her gloves.

Desmond's eyes scanned her slender figure; she was exquisite.

Rebecca moved to her vanity and sat down. Reaching back, she lifted the ebony comb from her hair, placed it on the table. As she picked and lifted other hairpins, her dark hair fell in stages until it draped down her back and shoulders.

She looked for her hairbrush. She paused, staring at the table. She raised her hand to her lips and looked about her. She picked up the silver charm and turned it around in her fingers.

"Desmond?" she whispered.

Silence.

There was a rap at the door. "Yes, Nora?"

Nora entered. "Please forgive me, ma'am. I was caught up in my letter-writing."

"It's quite all right." Rebecca stood up and left her vanity. She stood in front of Nora and gathered her brown tresses, bringing them forward. Nora began undoing the buttons down the back of Rebecca's gown.

"So you can keep a secret as well as I, Lady Rebecca." Nora smiled as she slipped the sleeves of the gown past Rebecca's shoulders and guided the gown to the floor. "I hear you're to be married," Nora continued.

Rebecca stepped out from the trappings of her gown. Desmond beheld the commencement of the bedtime ritual with high anticipation. This was delicious. He bit on his bottom lip.

"Yes, Nora. It's true." Rebecca smiled uneasily. "I accepted his proposal last night. I wanted to tell you this morning. But I couldn't…not in the face of your misfortune."

"I understand, ma'am, I do. But we must keep moving forward. I'm so happy for you. You lost your heart to him long ago. It's only right that you should marry."

"It's true, isn't it? I've loved Desmond Baines for longer than I can remember." She stepped out of her petticoat as Nora pulled it down from her small waist. "I suppose I won't believe we're to be married until it actually happens."

She bent her head and lifted her thigh slightly to undo her slippers.

Desmond swallowed. He was reminded of a statue of Aphrodite he had seen once as a boy. The naked figure had embarrassed him then. This was much different. This was very much real.

Her arms, like her legs, were long and lithe with shy curves. The muscles in her arms and shoulders worked as she fiddled with the fastenings.

Her skin was perfection in this light, the color of pale ivory with the luster of a pearl. His eyes followed her arms down to her thighs, so taut and smooth. He imagined running his hands on the outside of them, feeling their hardness while she straddled him. The blood rushed through the pit of his stomach and down to his hard-on.

Nora stood behind Rebecca and loosened the back laces of her bodice. Rebecca began to untie the front. The two women continued their banter but Desmond could no longer hear them. He could not think, could barely breathe. His craving for her was building fast. Nora removed Rebecca's bodice and set it on the dresser.

Her breasts were sublime. He savored the opportunity to study them at his leisure. They were perfectly rounded, like globes of alabaster floating in a pool of milk. Her nipples were pink temptations. He remembered the taste of her breasts from the afternoon and how velvety the sensation.

Nora arrived with Rebecca's nightdress and his private show ended as quickly as it began.

"Nora, would you lock the door when you leave? I'm spent. I really don't want to be disturbed."

"Very good, ma'am. Sleep well." She was gone.

The key scraped and clicked as Nora locked the door. Rebecca picked up her lucky charm and sat on the edge of her bed. She stared at it in wonder.

The rustle of the drapes drew Rebecca's attention. Desmond stepped from the shadows. He walked quickly to her, shedding his coat and dropping his hat to the floor.

She stood up, her face the very essence of surprise. "Desmond, what…"

He grabbed her around the waist with his left arm and drew her to him savagely. With his other hand, he grasped her neck and brought her lips to his. She yielded to him at once. Her mouth was open, docile. She pressed her soft curves against him, raised her thigh against his leg. As his lips journeyed down her throat, she sighed, "You win then."

He raised his head and looked at her. He was ravenous but he wanted to hold it in check, to revel in his lust for her.

"Can I claim my prize now?" Desmond asked her softly. He brushed his lips against her cheek.

She ran her fingers through his disheveled hair. He grabbed her hand and led her to the full-length mirror. They stared at each other's reflections. Desmond positioned himself behind her.

She started to turn her body to face him but he stopped her, bracing her softly by her shoulders.

Desmond did not need to speak. He placed his hands on her waist. Rebecca began to unbutton her nightdress. His eyes were fixed upon her fingers until she completed her undertaking. She put her arms to her side.

Gently, Desmond spread the yoke of her garment down around her shoulders.

He pulled on her nightdress until it fell in a heap around her feet. Desmond's breathing was heavier now, as he took in the sight of her.

With his arms about her waist, he undid the drawstring of her undergarments and pulled on them until they fell off as well.

She was fully naked. He stared at her wantonly, his mouth slightly open.

She closed her eyes and leaned against him. She brought her arms up behind her and around his neck.

Desmond ran his hands over the silky contours of her thighs, over her hips and across her belly. He cupped the firm white globes of her breasts in each of his hands. He bent his head to her neck and grazed his lips down her throat and over her shoulder.

Rebecca moaned softly as he gently squeezed and fondled her nipples. She reached behind her and felt for his swollen shaft.

"No," Desmond whispered into her ear, grabbing her wrist. "You'll finish me off."

"You're not being fair, Desmond," she pleaded in a whisper.

"I'm still collecting my prize. I assure you, I am well within my rights." His gaze returned to the mirror, to her polished pale curves and lines.

He relished the view of her writhing naked body in front of his formal dinner attire. He was her dinner guest after all and she had yet several courses to serve him. He watched his hands as they trailed a path over her breasts.

He grabbed onto one and held firm while his right hand slid slowly down to the valley between her porcelain thighs.

He slipped his hand into the heat of her crevice. He drew his breath in sharply when he came upon her creamy wetness.

"God, you're lovely," Desmond whispered fiercely, his voice low in his throat. "You're driving me mad."

His fingers gently probed the wet and silky lips of her pussy. Rebecca gasped and pushed her buttocks against his hips. His stiff hard erection pressed against her lower back.

Desmond's breath was hot and heavy in her ear. He found her swollen clit; it was
inflamed and wet, the size of a berry. He let it slide very softly, gently, back and forth between his fingers. Rebecca's breathing quickened.

He watched her hips rock, her buttocks grinding against his shaft. "Let me taste you, my darling," Desmond begged, his lips in her hair.

Rebecca turned around quickly and grabbing his hand led him to her bed. She threw back the covers and sat on the edge. He removed his tailcoat and sat beside her and they kissed feverishly, their tongues thrusting and licking. They fell against the bed linens. Desmond stopped to look at her. He touched her scarlet lips.

"May I, Rebecca? I'll understand if you don't…"

"I want you to," she whispered, breathless.

Desmond lowered his head to her chest. His lips lightly brushed her nipples and the supple valley between her breasts. Rebecca curved her back.

Desmond ran the tip of his tongue down the soft planes of her belly, his hands on her hips. He slid off the bed and placed himself between her legs. He felt he was in a dream.

He skimmed the inside of her thighs with his lips, planting random heated kisses. He looked before him and drew in his breath. Her pussy was gleaming with the dews of her lust.

Very tenderly, he kissed her hot silken folds. He licked his lips for his first taste. He was enraptured.

Carefully, he spread her folds with his fingers until he found the nub that was her clitoris. He licked it lightly, teasing it out. Then he kissed it, licked it and kissed it again until finally he brought the succulent bud gently into his mouth.

Rebecca was in the throes of a peaking ecstasy. She wished he would consume her. She looked down and took in the marvel of his blond and tousled head between her thighs. He was positively rapacious.

She pressed her mound into his mouth. Another suck and she would explode. Her body was tight, her thighs contracted. She felt herself cresting a rising wave.

"Oh…oh…oh…" Rebecca gasped. Her hands grasped her bed sheets in tight fists. She was panting rapidly. Desmond felt the gush of her orgasm against his lips. Her thighs were trembling.

Desmond thought that he had never been as hard as he was now. He stood up and worked at the buttons on his pants.

Rebecca's eyes widened as she watched him.

She loved this part; it was as if he would die if he could not penetrate her in that instant. He was immense.

He slipped his swollen cock into her wet and quivering recess. They both gasped as he entered her and he whispered her name.

He thrilled at the hot rush in his belly and his loins as he slid his shaft back and forth. It was so tight, hot and wet inside her. He closed his eyes and rode the crescendo of his bliss. He thrust deeply and pulled back slowly, trying to sustain it.

"Desmond, oh…Desmond," Rebecca was gasping.

The sound of her voice saying his name set him off. He climaxed, and she felt his shaft shudder and pitch inside of her.