Wickedly Wanton: A Ménage Regency Tale (5 page)

“You've answered mine,” she boldly admitted.

Aiden watched them dress each other. Still in his robe, he casually leaned against the bedpost. No, he hadn't been wrong. Faith was in love with Sabine. But Sabine, bless her debauched, curious little heart, remained oblivious. Not after the carriage ride home, he'd wager.

Faith continued to look at her with longing, but Sabine turned to face him. A saucy grin lit her face and—
damn her!
—made him hard for her again. He'd been honest when he told her he'd never met a virgin like her. If Aiden was honest with himself, he'd admit he'd never met another like her. Ever. Mistress, courtesan, virgin—none who reveled in pleasure for its own sake, who took and took, yet offered her very being in return.

Shaking his head, Aiden attempted to rid himself of such ridiculous thoughts.

Pity she was fully dressed, minus her shift, of course. Oh, to take her clad only in her stockings and garters. One afternoon, that was all he promised, all he delivered.

“Lord Severn,” she said rather formally, considering just a half hour ago she'd chanted
Aiden
as if it was the only word she knew. “We thank you for your gracious hospitality.”

He offered a wolfish grin and advanced on her. He could see her eyes darken, a flush of arousal on her cheeks. Her tongue peeked out to moisten her lips, and he wondered if she could still taste herself—her and Faith.

“Entertaining indeed,” he whispered, fingers light on the tops of her breasts. “But I truly lament your departure.”

“One afternoon doesn't seem nearly enough.” Her voice came out in a strangled whisper, eyes locked with his. “But it's all we'll have.”

Surprised at her words, the finality of the situation, he studied her. He did that often this day, tried to figure her out when she said something to so completely throw him off guard. Aiden had figured she'd want him to court her as most women would wish. But no, his beautifully wicked lover accepted his offer and kept to it.

He nodded in acknowledgement—of her, not of what she said. Despite his promise, he'd find a way to have her again. “Our paths may yet cross.”

“I'm certain they will, Lord Severn.” No, he didn't like to hear his title on her lips. Wanted to hear her shout his name. “And when we do, I'll look into your eyes and forever remember the taste of your skin.”

She surprised him again and he chuckled, lightly kissing her mouth. “I'll recall in vivid detail the artful expressions of your orgasms as you shout my name.” Before he could take Sabine again, he turned to Faith. A dark stain colored her cheeks, and she refused to meet his gaze. “And the luscious lips of your friend as she knelt between your thighs.”

Stepping back, he formally bowed to Sabine. “Good day.”

Faith quickly curtsied, hiding behind Sabine. For her part, Sabine smiled up at him, a hint of wantonness in that look as she deeply curtsied. Her breasts all but spilled from her gown, and he wanted to rip the offending material from her.

What the hell happened to him? Usually more controlled than this, he seemed to want naught more than to take her until neither could think.

“A token,” he said before she left.

He took her hand and kissed the palm, running his tongue along the sensitive skin. Sabine shivered, fingers brushing his cheek. Drawing back, he placed the pouch in her hand.

Aiden watched them leave, the carriage clattering away.

* * * *

Faith didn't care the driver of Lord Severn's carriage most likely knew exactly what they'd done this afternoon. Excitement still raced through her blood, and her core clenched in remembered pleasure from Sabine's lips and fingers.

“I never thought that would happen between us,” Faith said from across the carriage as it rattled away from the manor. “But it's thrilled me that it has.”

Sabine looked up from the still-unopened pouch. It took her but a moment to smile at her friend, but when she did, it was dazzling.

“I'm pleased I listened to your advice,” she said, placing the pouch on the seat beside her. “I wouldn't have wanted to go to my marriage bed without this knowledge.”

“Wasn't it more than just acquiring knowledge?” Faith asked, peering intently at her. Then she took a breath and admitted, “It was so much more to me, Sabine.”

“You're right, Faith.” She said the words slowly, gaze even on Faith's, but Faith had the feeling her friend didn't see her. “It was more than I could have hoped for. It was an afternoon that will keep me warm on those long lonely nights to come.”

“Sabine.” Faith stopped and leaned across the carriage. She took Sabine's hand in hers. “I hope to always be in your life. And I hope to be able to offer you this warmth again.”

Her smiled changed, warmed. Eyes sharpened and took on that glint of amused knowledge she often wore. Faith's heart broke just a little at that look.

“I'd like that, Faith. I care about you so much.” Sabine reached across and caressed her cheek. “And could not have seen myself sharing this,
all this
; sharing my body with any other woman but you.”

“Was this a lark for you?” Faith blurted out. She desperately wanted to know. Her fingers tightened over Sabine's, and her heart felt as if it would thunder out of her chest. “Or will you do this beyond your marriage?”

Sabine was silent for long moments and released her hand. Looking at the curtained window, she once more seemed not in this carriage but back at Lord Severn's manor house. Faith desperately wanted an answer before they arrived back home, but was afraid to prod for more. Afraid of Sabine's answer.

“Once I'm married,” she said carefully, “it'll be a commitment. I don't wish to bring shame to my family. We both know what happened today would see us both imprisoned. Imprisoned if we were lucky, stoned to death otherwise.”

Faith's face fell, and she sat back, stiffly against the seat. “Does that mean we cannot share a caress or a kiss before then?”

Sabine's sharp gaze pinned her to the seat, but she softened and smiled once again. Rising, Faith sat next to Sabine and again took her hand, holding it tightly. “I'm afraid of what we shared today. It was more than girlish games.” She stopped and worked up the courage to ask, “Or was it just a game to you?”

“You are my closest confidant,” Sabine said, cupping her cheek for a moment. “My closest friend. It was not a game. I trust you with everything.”

“As I trust you,” Faith agreed. Then, because she knew their time ran out, she kissed her. Giggling, she forced herself to lighten the mood of the carriage. “I enjoyed you so much I don't want to stop.”

Sabine laughed as well, gave her a quick peck on the lips. “For now, you don't have to.”

Emboldened, Faith kissed down her neck, breathing in the fragrance of sex and Sabine. Of herself on Sabine. “We can still play in private.”

* * * *

Aiden stood before the painting, the master of the house gazing at his maidservant. His afternoon with Sabine—and Faith—had been three days ago, yet he found himself before this painting too often. She captivate him, with her acceptance of his invitation, her complete abandonment once here.

There was no hesitation, no censure either. Just as he had done with many women, taking what he wanted, then leaving, so, too, had Sabine. But this time, it intrigued him. He always forgot his latest lover, oftentimes while she still lay abed, too busy with his estate.

Sabine, he could not forget. The look in her eyes, the taste of her.

Appreciation of beauty, of knowledge. She wanted, and took as far as society, as morals, would allow her. Aiden saw more in her than he did in most women. Sabine had an intellect and natural curiosity as opposed to the brainless minions who littered the dancehalls of England.

He meant it when he said he could see her by his side as they indulged in new adventures.

Sharply turning, he stalked down the hall into his library. One more time. He could seek her out for one more secret assignation. He didn't care this was wholly unlike him and pulled out a sheet of paper. Dipping his quill into the inkpot, he wrote.

Miss Sabine,

I shall be strolling by the riverbed, the very spot I first laid eyes on you. Tomorrow, two in the afternoon. I'd very much like to see you once more.

A

Ignoring the fact he'd penned the missive at all, Aiden sprinkled sand on it, folded, sealed it, and rang for the footman before he could change his mind. Calling himself all kinds of a fool, he instructed the footman to deliver the note as discreetly as possible. Once the man left, Aiden returned to his chair.

He scrubbed his hands over his face, turning to look out the large windows. Anticipation raced through his blood at seeing her again, taking that luscious body one last time.

* * * *

Faith sat in the gardens, absently gazing at the perfectly cultivated paths. The flowers were fine-looking and normally instilled a sense of peace, but not today. Her thoughts chased themselves around her mind, vainly trying to settle into coherent patterns. But she shied from those too, knowing what those thoughts meant.

She was losing Sabine.

Change thundered on the horizon, creeping closer as every moment ticked by. From almost the moment they met, when Sabine had befriended the shy Faith, she'd loved the other woman. Her innate inquisitiveness, her passion for learning, for creating. She was gifted at all she did—music, painting, poetry—and she knew so much about the outside world. Politics, history, details about the latest campaign against Napoleon, things Faith never would have discovered, let alone found interest in, until Sabine brought them to her.

The day they'd spent with Lord Severn had been the most beautiful of Faith's life. She didn't care Severn hadn't touched her. She didn't want him. Feared him, actually. No, it was Sabine she wanted. Sabine she loved.

And now she'd lost her.

Faith almost wished their day hadn't happened. That she never tasted Sabine's fragrant skin, brought her to orgasm, felt the moisture of her juices on her tongue and lips. Even now, her body tightened with the memories, wanted Sabine again.

Sabine would marry Mr. Reddick within the next several months, had already accustomed herself to that fate. Once she was attached to Mr. Reddick, there would be no time for them. What a lonely existence Faith would have afterward.

Too lonely, for Sabine was correct. Should word of their afternoon ever leak out, not only would both of them be ruined, but imprisoned in a mental institution. Or killed by a local mob.

“I can't spend the rest of my life without touching her again,” Faith whispered.

“Who are you talking to?”

Sabine's cheery voice startled Faith, who stood abruptly as if caught actually doing what she'd been only thinking of.

“No one,” she rushed to say.

“I looked for you in the house, but I see you're enjoying the day. Shall we walk along the stream?”

Faith willingly nodded and let her friend lead the way. They walked in silence for a bit, until they were in the wood. The trees were full of sounds, the wind rustling leaves, birds going about their daily business. It did naught to soothe Faith, who found herself even more depressed with this walk.

“You're not quite yourself,” Sabine said, taking her hand. An innocent gesture, Faith resisted holding on tightly. “You're a bit melancholy. I pray it's not because of our afternoon.”

“No,” she said quickly, “not at all. I've told you, it was the finest experience.”

“Then what is it, Faith?” Sabine asked, turning to eye her inquisitively. “What has you so forlorn?”

She smiled, stepped toward the stream. She watched the water glisten in the sunlight. The current moved fast, could be deadly, she knew. How easy it would be to walk into the cold water, let the current pull her away from the edge into the deep middle. Her skirts would weigh her down enough so it would be almost impossible to—

“Faith!” Sabine spun her around, fingers digging into her arm. Her face showed fear, the stark coldness of it, pale in the warm sunlight.

Faith shivered as if shaking off the thoughts of but a moment ago. Relaxing, she grasped Sabine's wrist with her free hand. Tried to assure her friend, though she wasn't entirely certain herself that she was all right.

“Don't worry yourself,” she said. “I'm fine.”

“I do worry,” Sabine said softly, her stiff fingers cold against the back of Faith's neck. “I care about you more than I can say, more than is proper to say.”

“What is proper between us?” Faith asked, brightening at Sabine's admission. “There is nothing that is not proper between us after all we shared.”

“Why do you seem so far away?” she whispered, not releasing Faith's neck, indeed stepping closer. “What are you thinking?”

“I feel I shall be lost,” Faith admitted in a bold move, but this was her only chance to say what she'd felt for so long. To express the love she felt for Sabine. “Lost without you, lost without more of what we shared. Every time I look into the future, I no longer see anything I didn't before,” she rushed on. “The afternoon with Lord Severn showed me a beauty I had been missing. A beauty I want to cling to.”

Overwhelmed, the tight control she held on her emotions broke. She could feel a tear on her cheek, didn't care. Another followed it, but all Faith could do was kiss Sabine. Bliss. Love.

She would do anything—subjugate herself to Sabine, to Lord Severn—to continue this. Would Mr. Reddick have the same proclivities as Severn? If he did, she would grovel at his feet. Allow him to do anything to her, just so she could be with Sabine again.

This was the only thing she wanted. Kissing Sabine made her feel whole.

Sabine smoothed her hands down the light blue skirt of her gown. She walked slowly across the lawn, purposely meandering as if she had nowhere to be. It wasn't as easy as she imagined, but she didn't want any of the servants to report to her father.

He had traveled to London this morning to settle the marriage contract with Mr. Reddick. Sabine had read it over before he left, and was shocked to see how generous her father had been. And how he'd protected her with the terms of the settlement—she retained a large portion of her dowry and the rights to the London townhouse.

While she suspected her father had ulterior motives for such generosity, she couldn't fathom what. She'd tossed and turned all night, trying to imagine what cause he had for protecting her to such extremes, for not simply giving Reddick everything.

Mayhap it had to do with her betrothed, but Sabine couldn't be certain.

She wished Faith were here to talk to, but she had gone to do a familial duty in town. Her family had business and social ties with Joseph Flight of the Royal Worcester Porcelain Company, and she went to pay a visit on her family's behalf.

Faith. The conversation they had yesterday still weighed heavily on Sabine's mind.

It was as enlightening a conversation as they'd ever shared, and until then, Sabine had believed she knew all there was to know about her friend. Faith relied on her; Sabine knew and accepted that. Yesterday she revealed something more: Faith needed her.

And Sabine couldn't disappoint her. She cared for her friend, even loved her, but without their friendship, without their connection, Faith would be as lost as she appeared when she looked so longingly into the river.

Never did she wish to see that look on her friend's face. It scared her, though she was uncertain why. There was a depth to Faith she had yet to understand—her eyes when she looked in the river, the emotions racing across her face before they kissed.

They struck a chord within Sabine, one she may not understand but wished desperately to forestall. She always had been protective of Faith, but after yesterday, she felt more so, more protective of her than she had anything else in her life.

Slowing her pace as she walked through the wood, Sabine didn't know what to do after she married Reddick. Perhaps she could convince him to allow Faith to be a near-permanent guest. But she didn't know him well enough to gauge his reaction. There was a connection to Faith that only her experience with Lord Severn had exposed—one she recognized ran deeper for both of them.

Lord Severn. No…
Aiden
. Somehow, Sabine knew he'd allow Faith to stay with them. Even share their bed. He enjoyed watching them together.

Moisture flooded her throbbing core, and she curled her fingers into her skirts. Much as she wanted to, she would not touch herself, not here where someone could happen by. Her face heated with the blush of memories, the rush of arousal, and she glanced around the deserted wood.

She wouldn't pleasure herself, but she would meet him. Alone by the stream. And she would most definitely allow him to pleasure her. Would even enjoy touching him, tasting his skin, his cock. Licking her lips, she anticipated doing just that.

Clearing her throat, she breathed deeply and quickened her pace. His note surprised her, and while she hoped he wished to see her to make love to her again, she wondered why he took the chance.

There were moments when she thought of him and a spark coiled up, threatened to burn her with the intensity of its heat. She forgot everything save him and the burning of her blood as she touched herself, his eyes watching her if only in her memory. Now, all caution gone, she rushed through the woods to the stream just to feel that, to feel him, again.

Perhaps, she considered as she neared earshot of the stream and their rendezvous, it wasn't that he took the chance. Perhaps it was that he offered the chance. One she willingly accepted.

Purposely pushing all thoughts of Faith and her impending marriage to the side, Sabine stepped from the shadows into the hot sunlight. Watching her step, she picked her way to the edge of the stream. The area by the rock lay abandoned. Had he changed his mind? Not wished to see her—to have her—again? Regretted sending the missive so soon after their afternoon?

Sabine swallowed her disappointment and sat on the sun-warmed rock. The light sparkled on the water, and she leaned back on her hands, closing her eyes against the brightness. Letting the sun warm her, she tried not to lament her coming here when it was clear he didn't wish to—

Hands slid around her shoulders, large and cool against her heated skin, to cup her breasts. Sabine's breath caught and she opened her eyes, tried to turn to see him. But Aiden pressed his lips to her neck, and she couldn't move; she'd know his touch anywhere, even after only one afternoon.

She could barely breathe from the rush of need hardening her nipples and flooding her core. She shivered with each caress, skin sensitive to his touch. Her nub beat in arousal, and she nearly begged him right there to make her climax.

“For days,” he whispered, his voice low and raspy, “I thought of nothing but your intoxicating scent. Your exquisite taste. Pushing my cock into your untouched ass.”

Scandalized, Sabine didn't pull back. No matter how his words were designed to outrage her, she whimpered. The very thought had such desire surging within her she wondered if she'd climax from his words alone. That delicate part of her body clenched as he fingered her through the gown.

“Oh yes,” she breathed before she could stop herself.

Slowly turning to look at him, her smile slow and inviting, for she had no shame before him, Sabine pushed against his touch. Another shock of arousal spiked through her, and she caught her breath.

Swallowing against the need clawing her throat, she managed, “I see there's so much more you could teach me.”

With a growl, Aiden pulled her to him, kissed her hard. Opening her mouth to his, she tasted him, craved more than just this. Yearned to feel him against her, to have him fulfill his promises. To break the control he kept around himself and feel the wildness as they joined.

Before she knew it, Aiden had lifted her, yanked her skirts around her hips, his fingers digging into her derrière with such force she knew she'd bruise. Sabine didn't care, wanted this roughness, wanted it beyond words. Whimpering, she arched against him, pressing closer, and didn't care if her entire body was one large bruise she had to explain to her maid.

She needed Aiden.

His fingers slipped down her thighs, entering her wetness from behind. One swift thrust and her climax washed over her, not enough.

“Do you know what I want to show you?” he demanded.

Sabine shook her head, the only thing she seemed capable of. The rush of her blood roared in her ears, pounded through her, and she needed him to stop talking and enter her. Fill her until she screamed, blacked out from the pleasure.

Blind to all but the need Aiden ignited in her, she undid his breeches. Her fingers shook, and she'd never touched a man's clothing before so was unsure how they fastened. She fumbled with the buttons and gave up, caressing him through the fabric.

Still holding her with one muscled arm, he withdrew his fingers, and she moaned with the absence. She started to finger herself, but his hiss of disapproval stopped her. Looking up at him, she saw his eyes, nearly black with passion, hold something else.

Possession.

He quickly took over unfastening the buttons. When his breeches lay open, Sabine took out his cock, womb clenching, mouth watering at the feel of the hard smoothness in her hands.

“You match my thirst,” he growled, thrusting in her hands. Instinct took over, and she circled her thumb around the tip. “Oh, to see just how far I could press you.”

“Yes,” she gasped, “show me.” Eyes locked with his, she spread her legs wider. Wanton, wicked, uncaring what her governess taught her, the strict moralism that woman tried—and failed—to instill. “Show me everything.”

Brushing her hands from his cock, he lifted her higher and twisted until he sat on the rock, bunching her skirts out of his way. Before she could think about it, Aiden slammed her onto his cock. She screamed his name as her orgasm broke through her, but he kept moving, hands grasping her waist. Her knees rested on his the fabric of his coat, her dress tangling with her legs as the pleasure built and built.

She tried to control her movements, wanting to feel every delicious inch of him enter her, but he refused. His eyes were black as night, unyielding as his hands on her hips, fingers digging into her as he controlled her.

“No,” he hissed, bringing her down hard again, hitting her just right.

Whatever he said after that, Sabine didn't hear in the cry of her wordless release. He continued to move her over him, but she let him now, mindless to anything save the orgasm streaming through her. When the intensity stopped, she tried to uncurl her fingers from his shirt and waistcoat but found she could barely move. His cock still hard in her, she looked down at him, gasping for breath, shuddering with every movement.

Those black eyes burned through her, no less intense. Just when she thought he would withdraw, he lifted her slightly, so just the tip of him remained in her, and slammed her back down. Again and again he did this, faster, harder, and Sabine couldn't catch her breath, couldn't stop the orgasm from coming, breaking, coming and breaking.

But still his gaze caught hers, and she couldn't look away. She sobbed now, wanted more, her body unable to take all this. Had never felt anything so powerful, so all encompassing. Then he lifted her off him, completely withdrew, and climaxed.

His seed covered her legs, and Sabine lamented being unable to taste it. Feel it slide down her throat.

“Aiden,” she gasped, unable to say more. “Aiden.”

He lay her beside him on the boulder, dress an unrecognizable tangle around them both, and held her close. She had no strength in her body, could not have moved had the king himself barreled through the stream. Her legs splayed open, the hot breeze caressing her sensitive skin.

Aiden's lips were cool on her overheated neck as she struggled to control her breathing, calm her heart.

Turning her head, she pressed her lips to his temple, quick and soft even as sadness broke through the bliss. He'd taken her so completely, and now she had to leave him. No matter how skilled Mr. Reddick was in the bedroom, Sabine knew he wouldn't be Aiden. What she shared with her future husband would never be what she did with her lover.

Sighing, she snuggled against Aiden, body calming. But then he let her go, pulled back, and set her on her feet. Sabine's legs buckled, and he caught her with a chuckle. Setting her against the rock, Sabine was grateful for the support even if she wished she leaned against him, not the boulder.

He righted himself, and she tried to repair her hair, find the bonnet that had got lost upon his arrival. The gown was hopelessly wrinkled. Her only hope was to wade into the stream and claim to have had a minor accident.

Looking up at him, eyes a light brown now, though still laced with passion, hair mussed from her fingers, his face held such a forceful look she took a step back. His hand snaked out, caught her chin, and he kissed her. Claimed her, more like it, and she surrendered.

“I find myself growing obsessed with you, Sabine,” he admitted. “Every time I have you, I want you again.”

His skin was heated beneath hers as she stroked his cheek. “I share in your want. At night I think of you and pleasure myself,” she admitted, shocking herself with such a bold statement. “But we both have other duties to attend to.”

Scoffing, he closed in, trapping her between his body and the boulder. “I attend to my wants.”

“I have obligations,” she said before he could continue. “And while I've shirked them for you, I still must return and fulfill them.”

“I admire your commitment,” he said evenly, but she sensed an underlying meaning to his words her muddled brain couldn't understand, “your unwavering desire to please your family.”

Sabine had never thought of it like that before. She'd spent her entire life lashing out at her family and doing as she pleased. “Please them? It was never about that, but about protecting myself. What choice does a woman have? The one choice I did have is to whom I would give my body, and I've made that choice for myself. I chose you.”

And she would again, no matter the consequences from her actions.

Aiden studied her for long moments. She heard the birds singing in the trees, the rush of water in the stream. Her heart pounded, not from arousal though that still smoldered in her. No, more emotional than desire, deeper. His hand was gentle on her shoulder, light as it moved up her neck, soft when he cupped her cheek.

“I understand now.” His voice was low and silken, winding around her to entrap her in its seductive snare. “I understand much more clearly than before.” Then he smiled, wicked and dissolute. “You are a rebellious little spirit. Demure to the world and yet dangerously duplicitous. You would be quite the treasure to tame.” His hand tightened, the look heating. “And I
would
tame you. You would be bound to my will.”

“Then I am fortunate,” she said even as his words excited her, even as she wanted just that, “you shall not be my lord and master.”