Fantasy 01 - Secret Fantasy (16 page)

"Let me prove it to you," she begged.

"How?"

"My mother has been exceedingly explicit in describing what's required. Tell me what to do, and I'll do it without complaint."

His nose wrinkled with distaste. He hated the entire notion of maternal guidance. If a child knew what was to occur in the bedchamber, it took much of the excitement out of the encounter. He liked to be the one to teach them, to browbeat them as they grew anxious.

Where was the fun in fucking a virgin if you couldn't scare her just a bit?

"I may be inexperienced," Penelope boasted, "but I'm not timid. I'm eager to oblige you."

"Let's see."

"Let's see what?"

He held out his hand. "Come here." Her bravado faded. "Why?" "I want to look at your teats again." "You already saw them once."

He scoffed. "You are such an impertinent tease. Go away and leave me be."

She was conflicted—yearning to storm off, yearning to stay—and he grabbed her wrist and tugged her onto his lap. She struggled, but only for a second as she remembered that she'd vowed to do whatever he demanded.

He smirked again. It was like taking candy from a baby.

"If you hope to entice me to matrimony, you'll have to exhibit a tad more interest in carnal affairs." "I'm interested! I am!"

He eased her back so she was draped across his arm, and he slipped his fingers into her dress, pushing the fabric away from her breasts. He gazed at her tiny nipples, then bent down and sucked on one of them till it was raw and inflamed; then he pulled away.

"This is the sort of pursuit I enjoy."

"I know. I let you do it, didn't I?"

T realize that you're hot to wed an earl, but I warn you: I will do the same—and much worse—every morning, noon, and night. I won't permit you to refuse me."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

"Lift your skirt."

"What?"

"You heard me. Raise the hem to your waist."

She hesitated, then reached down and did as he'd commanded. She had on drawers, and he undid the string and jerked them down so that her privates were exposed.

She groaned with embarrassment, but he ignored her. She was the one seeking an alliance, and if he agreed, she would gain many boons through their association, so she had to pay the price.

"A lovely puss," he murmured. "Is it virginal?"

"Yes."

"You're sure?"

"Of course, I'm sure. If some buffoon had stuck his rod up there, don't you think I'd recollect?"

"Has any man touched you here before? Not your father? Not a kindly neighbor? Not a friendly uncle?"

"No."

"Has any man so much as peeked at it?" "No," she said again.

He slid a finger inside, relishing how tight she was, how he could make her gasp and squirm. He probed much longer than he should have; then he stopped and shoved her to her feet. He stood next to her, watching as she straightened herself.

"Why are you treating me like this?" she challenged. "I don't have to put up with it."

"No, you don't."

"If you don't quit being such a bully, I'll tell my mother."

"Be my guest. She'll be delighted to learn what a little harlot you are."

She lashed out to slap him, and he snatched her wrist and gripped it so firmly that she winced in pain.

"If you ever hit me," he threatened, "I'll hit you back."

"You're a swine!" she seethed. "I definitely can be, but you've been very clear that you'd like a match with me anyway." "Maybe I've changed my mind."

"Have you? If so, speak up. I'm happy to let my son have you—although you should know that I plan to live for many decades, so you may never hear the word countess attached to your name."

"I hate you."

"Which I deem a rather poor remark from a female who claims she'd like to be my bride."

They were silent, with her glaring, while he smiled and acted as if he hadn't a care in the world. And he didn't really. She could marry him or not, and if she declined, he'd find another stupid, rich debutante to ruin.

"I don't wish to wed Lord Romsey," she eventually grumbled. "How could I convince you to have me instead?"

He nearly shook a triumphant fist in the air. "You need do nothing. I'll handle the details." "How can I know you're sincere?" "You'll have to trust me."

He probably should have proceeded, then and there, by forcing her down on the bench and raping her, but he had to orchestrate the conclusion so that the appropriate people saw what he'd done.

He imagined that it would take a crowbar to pry Penelope's dowry away from Lavinia, so he had to devise the perfect place and time for her downfall to occur.

"Will you propose," Penelope nagged, "or talk to Lavinia, or what?"

"Your mother is set on your marrying Jordan." "I won't do it—no matter what she says." "Are you certain?" "Positive."

"Good. We'll arrange events so that Jordan won't ever want you."

"What will I have to do?"

"If your mother has informed you, I shouldn't have to explain it."

"We'll have marital relations?" "Yes. What did you suppose?" "When?"

"Whenever you decide you're ready. Just sneak to my room. Any night is fine by me. You'll stay till morning, and the maids will stumble on you. It will all be accomplished quite easily."

"I can't come to your room!"

"Then you'll never have me as a husband, will you?"

He had no intention of going to her. She would have to take the steps for it to transpire, so that there was never any doubt as to who had instigated the dirty business. In the future, if she was miserable, she'd never be able to throw the scandal in his face. It would be her doing and none of his own.

Finally, she spun and stormed off. He chuckled, satisfied with his scheme; then he strolled inside, wondering which woman or women would join him before the evening was through.

Lavinia tiptoed into Charles's bedchamber. A candle was burning, and he was awake and propped against the pillows, so obviously, he'd been waiting for her, and she could barely keep from preening.

On several occasions, she'd stopped by, accepting his not-so-subtle hints that she'd be welcome. Where was his fancy London mistress now, hmm?

Mrs. Smythe was in her own bed, that's where! Lavinia was the woman he wanted!

She was thrilled with the progress of her seduction and felt that, very soon, he'd realize he couldn't live without her. Perhaps there would be a double wedding. Penelope could marry Jordan, and Lavinia could marry Charles.

"I didn't think you'd ever arrive," Charles complained. "I was about to call it a night."

She walked over, shrugging out of her robe so that she was clad only in a sheer negligee. "I can't come until everyone is asleep. You know that."

"Your standards are so provincial."

"Would you rather have your son and my daughter gaping at me as I saunter down the hall?"

"Who cares about them? Their opinions are irrelevant."

Lavinia wasn't concerned about them, either, and she couldn't figure out why she was being so cautious. What was it to her if others learned that she and Charles were carrying on?

"I'm sorry I was late, darling." She loathed apologizing, but he expected that she would. "Let me make it up to you."

"Please do."

He never demanded she perform fellatio, but from the first, she'd begun in this fashion, and it had become a routine she couldn't break.

Just once, she wished something else might happen, that he might arouse her, that he might show some awareness of her sexually, but he never did, which was extremely aggravating.

She pasted on a smile and snuggled next to him. He didn't like a lot of nonsense, no kissing or cuddling or even much caressing. He liked her to get down to business, so she took him in hand and pumped him into a fine erection; then she nibbled down to his phallus. Within seconds, she had him in her mouth, and he was thrusting with the bored control at which he excelled.

He was well-endowed, could flex for an eternity, and unfortunately, once he deigned to let loose, her jaw would be sore, her neck aching from the strain, but she wasn't about to protest.

If she didn't suck him off, she was sure Mrs. Smythe would, and before the week was out, Lavinia was determined to have Smythe sent away. Lavinia was the only woman Charles needed, and she was certain she could convince him that it was time for Smythe to go.

She was tired of waiting for him to finish, so she stroked his balls and fingered his anus, and his seed shot down her throat. Like a seasoned courtesan, she swallowed it down, and after the final drop was spent, she pulled away and wedged herself into his arms.

"You're improving," he admitted, and she tamped down a smirk.

"It must be all the fabulous practice I've been getting."

"It must be," he agreed.

They both laughed, and she licked her lips, pretending she enjoyed the abominable taste, the disgusting smell.

"You're a marvelous lover, Charles," she lied, buttering him up.

"Aren't I, though?"

T just love making you happy. I do make you happy, don't I?"

"Who wouldn't be content after a good blow job?" "But I do it because I adore you." "Do you?"

"Yes. I'd do anything for you." "Would you really?"

She gazed up at him, her blue eyes open wide and promising any number of decadent acts if he would only give her some hint of a returned affection.

"Tell me one of your fantasies," she urged. "Select a deed no woman's ever previously done for you." He hesitated, so she pressed, "There must be a way I could show you how much you mean to me."

"Actually, there is something that's always titillated me. It's very ... well..." He waved away the idea. "Never mind. It's too awful to mention."

"Tell me! It can't be that naughty. And even if it is, so what? We're adults; we can do whatever we like. It's no one's affair but our own."

"I'm embarrassed to say it aloud."

"Oh pish-posh! Go on! Go on!"

He was quiet forever; then he murmured, "Is Penelope a virgin?"

It was the last question she'd anticipated, and she was careful not to reveal her shock. "Well... yes."

"You're positive?"

"Yes."

He nodded. "I enjoy a menage a trois as much as the next man, but I've never tried it with a mother and daughter."

"A ... a ... mother and daughter."

"It would be incredibly invigorating."

"The... two of us?" "Yes."

She was stunned, and she struggled for calm. She'd never considered that he might wish for something so impossible. While she didn't have any qualms about letting him fuck Penelope if that's what it would take to keep him, she recoiled at the notion of his seeing the two of them naked and together.

For a woman of thirty-four, Lavinia looked fantastic, but her body couldn't compare to Penelope's youthful torso. Gad! She had to dissuade him!

"Since Penelope's a virgin," he was saying, "we could initiate her into intercourse as a team."

"A team?"

"It would be so stimulating to have you kissing her, or perhaps sucking on her nipples or licking her pussy. You could arouse her; then I would relieve her of her chastity."

"You'd like me to put my mouth on her?"

"Yes, but if you're not comfortable with that scenario, you could simply hold her down while I raped her."

"I don't think she'd be willing."

"Of course she wouldn't be. She'd fight like the dickens, but it doesn't seem as if the two of you get on all that well. Wouldn't it be amusing for you to help me force her?"

There was some satisfaction to be gleaned from restraining Penelope while she screamed and begged for mercy, but still, Lavinia was aghast. The last thing she would ever do was bring Penelope to Charles's bed, for she was terrified that she would never be able to pry the child out of it.

Once Penelope was there, Lavinia would be but a distant memory.

Then again, if Charles ruined Penelope, no man would have her—not Jordan, not anyone—so there would be no need to dangle her fortune in front of suitors. The money would be useless as bait, so Lavinia could keep it and spend it on herself. She wouldn't have to have Robert pawing through her records, searching for financial escape routes.

Oh, what was best?

She needed to stall, needed an opportunity to plot and prepare. She couldn't upset Charles by refusing his request outright, so she had to lie and placate him while she calculated the odds.

Now that she recognized Penelope to be her biggest and only rival, she had to get rid of the annoying girl, so that she had Charles all to herself. With so much at stake, Penelope couldn't remain at Gray's Manor. Lavinia had to take immediate steps to guarantee a speedy departure.

She chuckled, feigning interest in his scheme. "It's humorous to picture, isn't it?" "Very."