Taming Maria (12 page)

He was not to
be put off, and walked her closer to the light. 'Stab me to the
vitals, if it ain't Lady Maria! I'd know that mouth anywhere,' he
said, and his grip softened, his smile amused. 'So, milady, what
are you doing here at this time of night? Meeting a lover, perhaps?
Does your guardian know?'

She shook off
his hand. 'This is nothing to do with you, my lord.' But all the
time she was remembering how he had kissed her, caressed her
breasts and fondled her cunny.

'Maybe not,
but this is a rough place and you are taking risks. It must be for
a worthy cause, and a lover seems the obvious choice.'

'Not my lover.
I'm helping my friend, Lady Jane. She's in love with the clergyman
who used to teach at our school. He's a fine person but not wealthy
enough to ask her parents if he may woo her. They are forced to
meet in secret.'

'I see, and
where are they now?'

'In the
tap-room. Tranter is looking to our welfare. He's one of Lady
Arabella's grooms.'

'Will you
permit me to offer my assistance?'

Despite her
stubbornness that was insisting she could manage alone, she was
thankful he had come along, and not only for safety's sake. Once
again she was conscious of his attraction, irresistibly drawn to
him. It was hard not to press closer. She wanted to touch him, to
stroke his face and wind her fingers in his hair. Damien had
introduced her to passion, and she would never be the same
again.

They walked
back together, and Jane's eyes widened with alarm when she saw
Charles. 'Don't worry,' Maria said as she took the place beside
her. 'He is a friend and will help us.'

His presence
brought comfort, although she was not sure if she could trust him,
she had to admit that she needed a man to protect her. Though this
was a sign of weakness the tavern was a threatening place, the men
quarrelsome, belligerent and argumentative. Amidst the racket going
on around them she tried to assess Charles, his motives and
sincerity. Impressions fixed in her mind from their last encounter
came back and were reiterated. A lean man, with a thin, handsome
face, hazel eyes under long lashes and peaked brows over which fell
strands of brown hair. He carried an air of authority that marked
him as well born.

As then, he
was smartly dressed, but now wore serviceable attire, as if he was
out and about on business, not pleasure. He nodded to Jane,
acknowledging that they had met, and she introduced him to Robin. A
glance across the room showed Maria that Tranter was still
there.

'It's getting
too dangerous to stay,' Charles said. 'The constables will be here
any minute and we must get away, for they may arrest us along with
the others and we'll have to spend the night in a lock-up. Not the
happiest of experiences, I can assure you.'

He headed for
the entrance, and the others followed. On the way he nodded to
Tranter who fell in behind. In a short time they were walking
towards a more salubrious area where the streets were cleaner and
the houses more imposing. 'I live down that way,' Robin said, arm
in arm with Jane. 'I was hoping you might visit me there,
dearest.'

'But I'm
supposed to take you home, ladies,' protested Tranter. 'Emily will
give me an ear-bashing and refuse all favours if I leave you.'

'Don't worry,
my good fellow.' It seemed natural that Charles should take
command. 'Get a cab back and tell Emily, whoever that may
be...'

'My maid,'
Maria interjected.

'Well, tell
her I will see that they are driven home in my own coach.'

'And you are,
sir?'

'Lord Charles
Bradley, acquainted with Lady Maria's guardian.' To add weight to
his words he produced a gold coin from his pocket and flipped it
across to Tranter. 'Here's the fare, and something for your
trouble.'

'Thank you, my
lord. Your secret is safe with me.' Tranter touched his hat and
made off into the darkness. 'I live in River Street at number ten,'
Robin said, his arm round Jane. 'It's not far from here.'

'I know it. Be
ready in an hour, Lady Jane. It's not long, I know, but you need to
be at Armitage House before your absence is discovered.'

The couple
hurried off, and Charles turned to Maria. 'You'll come inside? I
can offer you a drink and we need to talk.'

She had little
to lose, having thrown respectability and caution to the winds.
Every part of her reckless nature was urging her to go with him.
She trusted him, too, far more than she did the viscount. She
nodded and they walked to his front door. The house had been built
in the reign of Queen Anne, detached and surrounded by garden.
Charles produced a key and let them into the hall. This was
illuminated by candlesticks in holders on the walls between
landscape paintings, and the floor was tiled in black and white,
like a giant chessboard.

Maria tiptoed,
exchanging amused glances with him. 'My housekeeper is abed
upstairs,' he murmured, and indicated a door on the right. 'Let's
go into my study.'

He lit a
candle from one in the hall and applied it to a branched stick on a
wide desk, then went round igniting others. The atmosphere was warm
and friendly, the walls lined with books and a fire smouldering on
the hearth. Charles stirred it with a brass poker and added more
coal, then said, 'I must leave you for a moment and find my man,
Bates, and tell him to prepare the carriage. I shan't be long.'

Maria settled
on the couch drawn close to the fire. She took off her hat and
jacket and freed her hair. It tumbled about her shoulders like a
fiery cloud. There was no need for caution now and she took off her
shirt and unbound her breasts, then slipped the garment on again,
leaving some of the buttons undone.

Her sensible
self wondered what she was doing in his house, but her desires knew
precisely why she had come. It was time she experienced what
intercourse meant. Damien had partly shown her, but left the act
incomplete. She did not want to wait any longer, and disliked his
arrogant assumption that he would win her and become her legal lord
and master. She had never liked anyone telling her what to do.

Charles stood
in the doorway. He walked to the table where a decanter and glasses
stood. Filling two, he joined her on the couch. 'Let us not waste
time,' he said, after draining his. 'We both know that we shall be
lovers, so why beat about the bush?'

'I'm a virgin,
and the viscount swears that he will make me his wife.'

'Do you love
him?'

'No, but I
find him intriguing.'

'He's after
your fortune. He will do anything for money. Not that I'm
suggesting this is all there is to it. You are extremely beautiful
and he appreciates beauty almost as much as he does power.'

'You seem to
be well acquainted with him.'

'We were
friends long ago at university, but went in different directions
later. He's away overseas a great deal, so I understand.'

'Lady Arabella
told me, and I had never seen him until the race.'

'I am aware of
this. I shall never forget you in that phaeton, looking like a
young charioteer. I determined to meet you. That's the main reason
why I attended his soiree, and I've not forgotten our encounter in
the conservatory. What do you suppose would have happened had we
not been interrupted?'

'I can't say,
sir,' she blurted out, heat rushing through her.

He was so
close she could not gather her wits. She could smell him, a musky,
male odour overlaid with perfumed pomade. His arm was resting along
the back of her shoulders and it was so easy to slide down a little
and rest her head on his chest. She could hear the steady beat of
his heart and allowed herself to sink into him.

'You make a
lovely boy.' He dropped his hand to her crotch and laughed. Maria's
cheeks were hot and she resented his amusement as he continued,
'Breeches suit you, showing your delectable bottom. If you were
really a lad I might turn to sodomy.' His eyes were bright and his
mouth eager as it closed on hers.

She could not
help but respond, her tongue tangling with his, her breasts lifting
under the shirt, straining to be caressed. He undid the buttons and
spread the front wide, admiring and touching each in turn. This
time she knew there was no turning back. This time she would lose
her virginity.

It was as if
she had spoken and Charles heard her. He lost some of his control,
becoming almost harsh in his handling of her. 'Lie back, Maria,' he
whispered, kneeling beside the couch so that she might stretch full
length. 'Let me pleasure you. I shall be honoured to be your first
lover.'

He opened her
shirt fully and kissed her lobes, her neck and then her breasts.
She felt his hands at her waistband, tugging at her breeches and
she raised her hips a little so that they slid away from her. Now
she wore nothing but shirt and hose. Charles sat back and admired
her, then kissed her belly and combed through her mound, inserting
a finger into her. She gasped at the joy of feeling him spreading
open her labia and finding her pleasure bud.

He moved to
lie across her and she felt his erect penis push against her. Her
hand reached down to fondle its wet head and long hard stem. He was
harsh now, less controlled. She had suspected that he might be a
forceful lover and wanted it. She was dappled by firelight and
candle glow but he noticed the bruises on her thighs.

'Who did this?
Was it the viscount?' he demanded angrily.

'He punished
me last night. In the vault, with some of his guests watching, and
Lady Arabella too. He was angry because I had spoken with you. He
tied me up, let his friends make free with me and whipped me.' The
memory was adding to her excitement.

It seemed to
stir Charles too, though he expressed fury. 'That perverted
bastard! It was ever his way... submission, chastisement, bending
women to his will.'

'He didn't
take me, or satisfy me. But I know he'll try again. He wants me to
be his slave and has already put me across his knee and spanked
me.'

'Like this?'
Before she realised his intention he sat up and pulled her across
his lap, his naked penis like a bough between them. She felt his
palm striking her buttocks, not too hard but enough to rouse those
feelings deep within her that rejoiced in being treated in this
way.

His blows fell
swiftly, like summer rain, hard enough to send sparks shooting
through her, but not so severe that they counteracted pleasure with
pain. It was stimulating, underlining his strength and passion,
making her feel feminine and weak and vulnerable, although she was
all too aware that she was neither of these. Kneeling over her he
turned her so that she faced him.

'I shall not
force you. Tell me you want this.'

'I do... I
think I do...' she stammered, dazzled by his beauty.

He nodded,
left her and stripped, then stood before her, his naked body that
of an athlete, muscular and tanned by exposure to the sun. His
waist was slim, his belly flat and his cock rose up from its wiry
thatch, straight as a lance, the bulbous glans shiny and red. He
let her take her fill of looking, guessing that the masculine organ
was an unfamiliar curiosity. He took it in his hand and it grew
bigger as he stretched the foreskin over the helm and back again.
The penis jerked as if having a life of its own. He lifted it and
showed Maria his balls. They hung like two ripe fruits in their
wrinkled sac.

Maria gaped,
not knowing whether to be impressed or repulsed. Could she ever
take a thing that big into her untried channel?

As if reading
her mind Charles knelt across her and his mouth met hers while his
fingers slipped across her clitoris, bringing it to the peak but
not to completion. He lifted her legs up and around his waist and
she felt his cock-tip moving between her labial lips. Using a hand
as a guide he rubbed the helm over her nubbin, and then continued
to stimulate it with his fingers as his phallus found the entrance
to her vagina and lingered there for a moment.

Maria
tightened her legs around him and buried her hands in his hair,
dragging him closer. This was the moment for which she had been
longing yet dreading; the invasion of her virginity, the sacrifice
of her maidenhead. She would never be the same again.

He took his
weight on his rigid arms, and then thrust slowly. 'Ow... ooh!' she
protested as her hymen resisted this invasion. He stopped, partly
within her. His hand came down between them and he massaged her
clitoris. The need to come blotted out any discomfort and, still
frigging her bud, he thrust slowly forward, and then with a fierce
jerk, sheathed himself inside her.

Maria moaned
with pain and shock. Charles remained still, buried in her virgin
hole. Master of the erotic art that he was, he continued to stroke
the rigid nubbin, rousing her to intense pleasure, making her
forget the discomfort of his prick, that large object forcing its
way inside her.

'Hold the base
of my cock,' he told her. 'Let me pleasure you before I thrust in
deeper. I don't want to hurt you and can tell that I'm ploughing
untilled soil.'

She whimpered
her need as his clever finger brought her higher and higher till
orgasm burst within her. Then Charles gave in to his lust,
penetrating her fully, withdrawing and entering again and again.
She could feel his pubic bone grazing her throbbing clitoris and
his balls slapping against her perineum. Heaving beneath him,
urging him to push deeper and harder, her nails dug into his back
like the claws of a wild cat in season.

His hips
pumped, her wet passage receiving him with greater ease and he lost
control, crushing her beneath him as he frenziedly sought relief.
They rolled from the couch to the floor and this gave him greater
purchase. He drove into her brutally and she felt his cock chafing
her bud at every stroke, the sensation rushing through her,
building and building to another orgasmic explosion. She cried out
as she came again. Charles gave another savage thrust followed by a
deep bark of satisfaction, flooding her with his seed.