Читать книгу Wanton: - Noelle Mack - Страница 7

London, 1816…

Marko was sure he’d fallen in love with her almost against his will. Severin bewitched him instantly. He’d needed an escape, needed the noise and frivolity of a crowded ball. And then he’d seen her…

She waited demurely in a corner with downcast eyes, sitting in a chair that he supposed had been brought for her to sit in by some other admirer, who had conveniently disappeared to fetch a glass of punch. Or so he hoped.

Marko sensed she was anything but demure. Her gown was daringly low-cut, made of subtly striped velvet that fell in voluptuous folds beneath her half-bared bosom and looked from a distance like the valuable fur of some rare and dangerous cat. He looked at the hands folded in her lap, and noted that her nails were beautifully shaped and—were they touched with gold? The unusual adornment added to her exotic appearance and was sensual in the extreme. He wanted to kiss each pretty fingertip one by one, feel her gilded nails rake his back…

She rubbed one hand absently over the other. He could well imagine being caressed by her. Marko collected himself. He did not want to be caught staring.

“Who is she?” he whispered to Denis, grateful that the youngest man in the Pack, the one they all called the cub, had agreed to come along with him tonight. Of late Denis had cut an amorous swath through the crème de la crème of female London, dark hair pomaded, strong neck dabbed with musky cologne. He represented an extreme of male style but it worked. Denis had to stay a step ahead of a few outraged husbands, who, of course, were unfaithful themselves as a rule. Still, his cubbish interest in who was sleeping with whom, married or not, meant he kept up with the latest London gossip and his information was generally accurate. It worked to Marko’s advantage, as he tended to avoid social occasions, not having the time for many.

“I am not sure,” Denis said, to Marko’s surprise. “She has an odd name—I don’t remember it. Not married, as far as I know. And she is not upon the town.”

Marko nodded, studying her. “Then what does she do?”

“I believe that she is an arbiter of fashion or something like that. She is not a dressmaker, though—far from it. A friend of mine pointed her out to me once, but I was rather drunk at the time.”

“And that is why you don’t recall her name.”

“Exactly. But I do remember that my friend called her something odd. A mistress of illusion, I believe. Yes, that was what she said.”

“How interesting.” Marko’s curiosity about the self-contained beauty in the corner grew sharper. If only she would look up and let him catch her eye. He needed a pretext to talk to her.

“Do excuse me,” Denis was saying.

“Of course.”

“Good luck, old man.” Denis raised his glass.

Marko scowled at him. He could have done without the “old man.” He was not that much older than Denis. But then, he thought with a sigh, Denis was still a cub, for all his sexual adventurousness.

He crossed the room to the woman in the corner. She raised her dark head and gave him a melting look from eyes the color of amber. Marko was mesmerized. There was a knowing quality in her gaze that he found instantly erotic. She was very different from the usual females who infested London balls and assemblies, foolish young things who twittered and blushed, while keeping an eye on the relatives bent on marrying them off. No, she was quite alone, as far as he could tell, not seeming to care about propriety or even the appearance of it.

Yet before he asked her name, he found her so beautiful that he thought he might be dreaming. She was about to speak to him and he watched her extraordinarily sensual lips form two very ordinary words.

“Good evening,” she said.

She might as well have been asking him to kiss her. He would have too.

Marko bowed. “Good evening. I have not had the pleasure of being introduced to you. I am Marko Taruskin.”

“My name is Severin.”

She rose when he asked her to dance, not looking about for the admirer Marko had imagined. He had a feeling at once strange and delightful that he had fallen into a trap.

The music began and the orchestra played a minuet, orderly and precise. All he touched was her hand, but at that moment of connection, a sensation flowed between them that was powerfully sexual.

Going through the figures of the dance, Marko saw only her. Her complexion was as exotic as her gown, a creamy contrast to those dazzling amber eyes. As if to complement them, her amber pendant was nestled between her breasts.

Oh, Wolf above. How he tried not to look at it.

From the chandelier above, the pendant picked up light and cast a golden shadow upon her bosom, a little shadow that looked like a drop of honey. He thought then of how she would look with nothing on but that jewel, her nipples dark and rosy, her beautiful breasts heavy in his hand. He would bend down and apply his tongue to the drop of imaginary honey. Then her nipples. Then her neck.

He would not be satisfied until he could sweep her off her beautiful bare feet and carry her naked to his bed.

Marko realized that Severin was studying him each time her steps turned her to face him.

He managed a polite smile. He lifted his arm for her to pass under and turn again, observing the way the velvet of her gown moved sensually over her hips and legs. It caught the light and emphasized her delectable curves. How long had it been since he’d had a woman?

But Severin was not just a woman—she was closer to a divine incarnation of womanhood, someone a man might worship with his body and his soul. She had entranced him utterly in less than an hour. How she had done it, he could not say.

In his mind, she was naked, dancing just for him in a private chamber to which they had retreated. Not here, in this crowded ballroom, with others looking on, going through the motions of social intercourse, when he longed hotly for quite another kind.

The other women in the room seemed to be noting the details of her gorgeous attire, but the men knew how to see beneath. They looked at her again and again. Avidly.

He would willingly battle them all just to have her. Just for one night.

No, that would not be enough. He vowed not to let her go after this dance. He would find out more about her, where she lived, why she had come here alone—she had to have come alone. The admirer he’d imagined did not exist. No one had tapped him on the shoulder or called him out.

For now, she was his to dance with. He wanted more.

Her swirling gown brushed against his legs, ever so lightly but repeatedly, exciting intense desire. Marko gritted his teeth. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirrors that lined the ballroom walls. His expression would pass for a half-smile. He dared not look lower.

No one else seemed to care. The glittering company moved through the steps of the dance. Other women wearing gowns in hues as light as spring flowers shone in their way, but none was as dazzling as Severin. The men partnering them shot envious glances at Marko. The patterns of the minuet intersected and separated them all upon the floor.

If everyone else had vanished at that moment, Marko would have been sublimely happy. He could ask her to come away with him without fear of being overheard, without exposing her to the censure of other women.

Ah, if they could be alone and somewhere else. A room just for them, with a fine, four-postered bed. He would bury himself between her fine thighs, hold on for dear life to the rounded cheeks of her beautiful arse while he thrust deep within her body…again and again…

“The music has stopped,” she said, executing a final pirouette and looking up at him.

Marko didn’t let go of her hand. “So it has.” He willed his erect flesh to subside and kept her in front of him as he guided her from the dance floor. The exchange of pleasantries with other guests was an excruciating necessity.

He contrived to dance with her again, several times, and allowed no other man to get closer. He plied her with champagne—had they had one bottle or two? He did not remember that detail. At last he maneuvered her into a quiet corner and begged her to come away with him.

To his joy, she agreed, flirtatiously and tipsily. He’d told the driver, who discreetly ignored Severin, to just drive. They could decide upon their destination in time. Rolling away from the ball as the other guests departed, leaning back in the carriage that had waited for him, Severin’s face was flushed and her eyes were sparkling. He told himself not to take advantage of her at that second she murmured the words he wanted most to hear.

“Kiss me, Marko.”

He needed no further encouragement. He pulled her into his lap, enjoying how her backside pressed into his lap with each jounce over the cobblestones. The horse trotted briskly when the street was smoother, and the carriage swayed a little from side to side.

He held her in his arms, running his hands eagerly over every part of her body he could reach, giving her enough room to rock with the motion of the carriage while he kissed her. Her lips were hot and the inside of her mouth, silky wet. Her tongue teased his and then she nipped his lower lip.

“I love to make love in a carriage. It has been far too long since I…oh, never mind. I am here with you and that is all that matters.”

“Have you no lover then?” Marko murmured. “It seems hardly possible that a woman like you would not.”

“No.”

Marko pulled up the velvet folds of her gown, pushing it back to reveal her bare thighs. “Marvelous stuff, this. As soft as your skin, I suspect.”

And he very much desired to find out just how soft that was.

Severin sighed when his hand settled upon one thigh, curving around it in firm possession. His other hand gripped her waist, keeping her on his lap, her head nestled against his shoulder. “Don’t stop,” she breathed in his ear. “I love to be stroked on the inside of my thighs.”

“Do you now.” He obliged. Her skin there was unbelievably soft, far softer than the luxurious velvet that had hidden it.

Marko traced his fingertips up, feeling first one thigh and then the other, savoring the heated fragrance of an excited woman. No perfume on earth compared to it.

Severin parted her legs to allow him more room. Great Wolf, if she didn’t stop squirming and rubbing all over his lap, he was likely to explode. He didn’t want to touch the sweet, soft flesh between her legs just yet. No, he would save that ultimate intimacy for later.

To have her open to him this much was intensely sensual. That he did not know her added spice to the unexpected encounter. He would need every bit of what was left of his self-control not to move her off his lap and lean her back against the cushions.

“You’ve stopped,” Severin moaned softly in his ear. “Why? I liked what you were doing.”

“And so did I. You are so beautiful, Severin,” he murmured. “And shameless.” His exploring fingers moved just a little higher.

She slipped a hand inside his coat, touching his tight nipples under the linen of his shirt.

Marko drew in his breath. She knew what she wanted—and she knew what men liked.

Her expertise became more evident when she moved her hand over the front of his breeches, rubbing and squeezing the stiff rod trapped within.

She murmured naughty things in his ear. How much she wanted to see what she could guess at was the least of it.

Marko moved her hand to the buttons at one side. “All shall be revealed,” he whispered.

One by one, she undid them, single-handed, with great dexterity. He cared not where she had learned to be so wanton—he only wanted to receive pleasure from her experienced hands.

She dragged her gold-tipped nails over the taut flesh of his groin. The stimulating effect went straight to his cock, which was still trapped beneath the flap of his breeches. She had undone only the buttons on one side.

The pressure was agonizing, although she had moved to the side to help free his eager flesh. Severin settled herself beside him and undid the other buttons.

There. He groaned. His cock rose up of its own accord. She took him in her soft fingers and gently stroked the heated shaft, searching for his mouth with her own, kissing him tenderly.

Marko scarcely knew where he was at that moment. In heaven or about to be, he thought vaguely.

He reached over to cup her breasts within the velvet bodice. Her nipples were erect and easy to feel in his cupped palms.

He squeezed both breasts as gently as she was handling him, following her lead. If, later, she wanted him to be a little rougher, pleasuring her darker needs with love bites and firmer handling, he would do that.

For now, as aroused as he was, it was best to go slowly. He thrust his tongue into her mouth, kissing her lasciviously. He broke off only to breathe. “Severin…I wish I could rip this damned dress to pieces.”

She laughed a little. “But then we would not be able to leave the carriage.”

“Must we leave it?”

“Do you not want to lie with me, Marko?”

He wanted nothing more. At last, by a stroke of luck he would never understand, he had found a woman whose talent for amorous play went beyond his wildest dreams. Consumed by lust though he was, Marko knew that there was far more to Severin than that. He would never get enough of her. In just one night—and the night was far from over—his world had been turned upside down.

Eventually, he answered her question with sensual strokes and loving murmurs. “Yes. Yes.” She responded in kind. He could love her, he thought, befuddled. Surely the intensity of everything he was feeling, even its suddenness, was a sign of that celebrated emotion. They were off to a wonderful start.

Marko trusted his instinctive response. Dimly he remembered Kyril telling him that one just knew when the love of one’s life appeared, because there was nothing else like it. The body echoed the joy of the soul at that moment.

The carriage began to slow and Marko groaned, stiff all over with the aching need he felt for her.

“Where are we?” she asked softly. Severin pulled down her dress and patted her hair, breathless with excitement. “I am not fit to be seen.”

“I disagree.”

She moved away but she shot him a sensual look. It was clear that she was as thrilled as he was by the dizzying progress of their encounter. The odd feeling of déjà vu that had followed his first look into her eyes had been a sign of sorts. Marko was almost convinced that the mysterious Severin could be his one and only.

To join completely with her would naturally come next. He was drunk with new love and just able to keep from declaring the unexpected feeling then and there. He did not really know her. He wanted to, he would, but it would not do to rush that either.

She pushed aside the curtain that covered the small window of the carriage, and looked out.

He noted how her face had changed when the carriage came to a sudden stop. Had the sudden jolt brought her to her senses? Her rosy cheeks paled and the radiance in her eyes vanished. Marko leaned over, wondering if she had seen some swaggering ne’er-do-well who frightened her. The street was empty but it was familiar, at least to him. The driver had brought them to St. James’s Square and the house of the Pack, evidently tired of going in circles.

“Is this where you live?” There was a wary edge in her soft voice.

He thought nothing of her question. There were at least a thousand buildings just like it in the better neighborhoods of London, remarkable only for their anonymity. Which was precisely why the Pack had made it their headquarters—that, and its nearness to the Court of St. James. As well, its thick walls made it ideal for a lair, when they were in the mood for a Howl, the traditional celebration of the Pack, or just a wild party. “At times, Severin. Not always. The driver came here out of habit.”

She only nodded, pushing the curtain back a little more to look far up at the top windows of the house.

Marko sat back and fumbled with his buttons, willing his overexcited cock to soften. In another minute, he managed it. He could hear the horse stamp upon the cobblestones. Before long he would have to decide where they would stay the night, most likely at a hotel. Not here. And they could not stay forever in the carriage and expect the unwilling horse to trot through the streets of London indefinitely.

Severin sat back from the window. “That man—who is he?”

Marko craned his neck. So she had seen someone at a window. It must have been Feodor, who was now coming down the front steps of the house—but why would he have frightened her? The man was not a full-blooded member of the Pack and did not possess the masterfulness they prided themselves on. If anything, he was ordinary, except for his odd yellow eyes. Marko had no wish to talk to him at the moment.

“A distant cousin of mine. Feodor Kulzhinsky.”

Severin seemed uneasy. “And he lives here?”

“The house belongs to my family. All of us are free to come and go.”

She seemed to be studying Feodor, who strolled away. Excellent. A tedious explanation would not need to be made, Marko thought. Feodor could be inquisitive and might be especially so under the circumstances. Of course, Marko had never brought a woman to the house, although he had been advised that his cousin had sneaked a few by the major d’omo, and that they were not the sort of females that required introducing or expected politesse. Feodor had low tastes.

“I cannot stay the night with you,” Severin said suddenly.

“What? But we don’t have to stay here, my dear—”

She smiled a little wistfully. “I am sorry, Marko. Please take me to my house.”

“But—” He fought for self-control. Severin had aroused him to fever pitch and suddenly she wanted nothing to do with him. What had cooled her ardor?

She sat back. “Now.”

Mystified, Marko studied her, half-wild with sexual frustration. “Very well,” he said. “But you will have to tell me where that is.”

She gave him the address. He hoped it was the real one.

It had been. In the ensuing weeks, he’d been permitted the liberty of calling upon her there, if nothing else. They conversed often, sexually charged but outwardly sedate sessions that drove him half-mad with desire for her.

As for the rest of it—the ridiculous emotions, overwhelming feelings that he had mistaken for love—well, she had dazzled him. To some degree, he felt he’d been played for a fool, but it could happen when a man was not on his guard.

As to who would have the upper hand in their love affair, Marko realized two could play at being mysterious. He would provide tidbits of information, mostly misleading, about the Pack if she should ask. He would never give away all.

As far as the mystery of Severin herself, his connections insisted that she was not a courtesan and never had been, only that she was employed by the best of them and aristocratic ladies as well, keeping her clients in the height of fashion. Other than that, there was very little gossip about her, good or bad.

It occurred to him that he had come too close to her somehow during the night of the ball and the carriage ride afterward. No wonder she had become suddenly skittish and refused to stay. By caressing her beautiful body with all the expertise he possessed, he had managed to storm her heart as well. Her surprise at his doing so had been genuine.

There was certainly something between them. Call it animal attraction. Her sensuality could very well be her undoing, if he had his way. Marko knew that Severin desired him. Her amber eyes glowed brightly when they merely talked—he knew what the light in them signified. Without intending to, she had given her innermost self away to some degree in the carriage.

Since then, her body—the way she leaned toward him, came a trifle too close—had seemed to promise much, but they were not progressing on that front. She would not say yes and she would not say no. Very well. He might have to help her arrive at a decision somehow where sex was concerned. He felt that she owed him, ungentlemanly and rude as it was. If love had nothing to do with her desire, then he could live with that. Lust would do.

A bribe and a bottle of good port for her manservant would smooth the way to bliss. Failing that, he could go to her house and demand that she see him—no. He would just walk in…

The last chord died away and Marko heard the almost noiseless click of a piano lid closing. Severin had played beautifully, soulfully, quite unaware that he listened unseen. She sighed and put the sheets of music in order before she rose, pushing back the padded bench with a faint scrape.

He heard the questioning meow of Severin’s cat, following her mistress about the adjoining chamber. Silk skirts rustled over polished floors. Then Severin swept through the double doors that led to her bedroom and stopped, her lips parting with surprise. “What are you doing here?”

Her glorious eyes moved over his body in a sensual way. It was the one response she could not seem to control around him. Good. He had hoped for that.

“Waiting for you,” Marko said nonchalantly. Would she shriek? Have him thrown out? He was prepared for anything.

Severin glided past the bed on which he lay, stopping in front of the looking glass on her lace-topped dresser. “But it is the end of the day and I was about to take my bath. And I do not remember inviting you.”

He stayed where he was, but his heart beat faster as she began to take down her hair, looking at the reflection of him in the silvery glass, her back to him.

“No, you didn’t.”

“Then how did you get in?”

Marko shrugged. He was quite at his ease stretched out on her featherbed, luxuriously so, in fact. He rolled to his side, bracing himself with one arm and letting the other rest on his side. “I let myself in. Your manservant did not hear my knock and I tried the knob. The door was unlocked. I heard the music playing and decided to enjoy it from in here.”

“I see.” Her tone made it clear that she didn’t believe one word of his explanation. “How indiscreet. Anyone could have seen you enter unannounced.”

“Would you rather I used the trellis or the balcony, Severin?”

She laughed a little. “Do you wish to play a romantic hero? You are well suited for the role.”

“No. Not in that way. In any case, it is raining. The front door seemed much easier.”

“Oh?” Severin gave an unladylike snort. “I imagine my man was easy to bribe, too.”

“I did not have to.”

Her gleaming hair rippled over her bare shoulders. He longed to bury his face in its fragrant softness and forget about the world, be consumed by the heat of his passion for her. Severin’s nearness sent a thrill through his body. He wanted to kiss her madly, but he stayed where he was. She turned to face him, putting her hands on her hips and looking him over.

Marko could almost feel her gaze upon him. He was nearly as aroused as if she had touched him. Since he was fully dressed, from his fitted half-coat to the breeches tucked into his high boots, the sensation was not comfortable. He drew up one leg and bent his knee to conceal his physical reaction to her hot-eyed study of his body.

“Boots in the bed?” she murmured. “How uncivilized of you.”

“I could not very well strip, Severin. You might have screamed when you saw me.”

She permitted herself a small smile. “I don’t think so. I have seen you naked before.”

“Not all the way.” He remembered their first encounter in his carriage with renewed chagrin.

Her eyes glowed with amusement, much to his irritation. “Nearly. But I was not ready.”

“Are you ready now?”

The question was bold, but she was bolder. Severin sat on the bed and leaned over him. He restrained himself from running his hands through her hair, even though soft tendrils brushed his face.

“Yes,” she said. And then she kissed him. That they had done, but—

Marko could not hold back another second. His arms went around her and he rolled her over until he was on top, pressing her down.

Her lips parted and her eyes shone with desire as strong as his own. He kissed her neck, then felt something touch his cheek. It was a pendant, a drop of amber set in gold. The fine chain it hung from had come unclasped.

Marko captured the pendant before it rolled away, preventing the chain from tangling in Severin’s tumbled hair. The gem was as smooth and warm as her skin.

“It is my talisman,” she said softly. “Look closely. There is a flaw in it that looks like an eye.”

He closed his fingers over the heavy drop of amber. “I would just as soon not be watched, if you don’t mind.”

Severin laughed in a low voice. “Then put it away.”

Marko found a small pocket that usually held a watch and tucked the pendant and the chain in there without another thought, going back to kissing her. Severin moaned into his mouth as he caressed her breasts, arching her back, almost shoving her body into his exploring hands.

So she too had held back. The knowledge pleased him.

She was unfastening her bodice, revealing her breasts. Her nipples were dark, tightened with arousal.

No doubt she craved a good sucking on both. He fastened his lips upon one and rolled the other between his fingertips. It was exciting to make love to her when she was nearly dressed. He might want to keep her that way, at least for a little while.

Severin took hold of her skirts and lifted the rustling stuff over her knees.

She was utterly beautiful and wanton. No, he wanted her just as she was, a flower of silk with those lavish skirts pulled up and spread around her bare legs.

Marko sucked her nipples in turn, and stroked the rounded thighs that she allowed to fall open. Because they were on a bed and not in a closed carriage, she could open them very wide.

His fingertips trailed from her knee, moving several inches up from there. But as he had done then, he did not touch the juicy flesh between them. He looked forward to witnessing her complete sexual excitement.

Marko nuzzled her neck, letting her rub her bare breasts and hard-sucked nipples against his shirt. She gave little cries of pleasure and tugged at his coat.

He rose halfway and dragged it off, flinging it across the room.

Severin swiftly undid the tie at his neck, parting his shirt fronts and sliding her hand inside to touch his chest. She seemed to enjoy the light tickle of the hair upon it, and the Wolf knew how much he enjoyed feminine nails lightly scratching at his sensitive nipples.

Her hand moved down to his waist to draw his lower body closer, but her voluminous skirts got in the way. Well, he might have to undress her completely after all. But not just yet.

Her dress would be crumpled just from their kissing, but he had a feeling she would not mind in the least. He wanted to remove every article upon her with sensual thoughtfulness.

She still had on her pretty embroidered shoes and stockings that stopped at the knee. He had touched the garter of one stocking but not undone it.

He struggled away from her, eager to prolong her pleasure and his own. One might make love with one’s eyes. Studying the beauty of Severin’s body, even letting her tease him by taking off her clothes herself before he continued to touch and stroke and lick—it would be a very great pleasure.

“Where are you going?” she asked.

“Nowhere,” he replied, sitting back on his haunches. “I only want to look at you like this.”

“As on the night we met,” she murmured. “I left you so frustrated—”

He patted her thigh. “Never mind that.”

Marko got off the bed and shucked most of his clothes at last, keeping his drawers on. She kicked off her shoes, laughing when he caught each one, and unrolled her stockings. “You will have to help me with this dress,” she said.

“Roll over.”

She did and he undid the fastenings at once. She could feel his hot breath on her bare back as he pushed the sides of the gown away from her body. She wore no corset.

“Roll over again. I mean, roll off the dress.” She did and he whisked it off the bed and away, tossing the crumpled silk into a heap upon the floor. “Ah. You are as beautiful as a nymph.”

Severin looked at him, as if, naked, he was glorious. All it would take is one touch, he thought wantonly. Her fingers. Her mouth. I will not be able to control myself. Her gaze moved up and she looked longingly into his eyes.

“Not yet, Severin,” was all he said.

She was eying him with sensual hunger. Stripped bare by him, lying upon her bed, his to take…ah, she was pouting. Actually pouting. Marko was delighted.

“Not yet?” she asked. “Then when?”

“I think that we should take our time.”

“Bah.”

Marko smiled slyly. “I believe you mentioned something about a bath. We could start with that.”

She floated in the hot water, blissfully relaxed. He watched, running a hand through the water now and then and letting it dribble over her belly and breasts.

To be bathed by him was incredibly sensual. She wanted to make it last forever.

Severin tipped her head back and let her tangled hair soak in the water, closing her eyes. She felt a large male hand slide under her back and lift her gently after a minute.

The hand worked creamy liquid into her hair and separated the tangles. She kept her eyes closed, letting the water and cream run in rivulets down her back. He soaked a washcloth in the bathwater and cleaned the excess from her face so she could open her eyes.

Oh my. He was almost too beautiful to look at. His linen drawers were splashed and clung to his thighs in places.

The cream had splashed on the fine, dark hair on his muscular forearms, and one hand was still covered with it. He smoothed that one carefully over her head.

“Do I look like a wet cat?” she asked dreamily. “Bedraggled and miserable?”

“You look beautiful, Severin. And very happy.”

“Liar.”

Marko grinned. “Give me a spoonful of truth and then we will see if I am lying.”

“Maybe later.”

His creamy hand moved down her back. “Lie down again.”

He supported her as she did, and Severin arched her back even more, tipping her chin to the ceiling to get her hair completely under the water. Her lips had to part in this position and she gave a little groan of satisfaction…and then, through the walls of the marble tub, heard an answering growl.

She had noted that animal quality in him, found it wildly attractive. Yet his ministrations were as tender as a woman’s. His hand continued to comb through her hair. The strands were free of each other at last, the snarls undone by the special cream. He used his fingers to gently massage her scalp and Severin arched even more.

Her breasts rose out of the water and she felt a chill tighten the flesh of her nipples.

Then she felt Marko’s mouth come down on one…and suck…and then…he sucked the other. Just her nipples. Clean and tight. The rest of her was soapy or creamy.

He lifted his head and she heard him heave a sigh that was pure lust. Severin let him lift her. She felt boneless. The size of the tub allowed her to float. It was fit for a harem, an unusual luxury for London.

He put both his big hands on her head and pressed out the water. “There. Your eyes look huge when your hair is back like that, Severin. And how they glow. Your wet eyelashes are so pretty.”

“You can find nothing wrong with me. You are better than a mirror.”

“Do you want to look in one?”

“No,” she said hastily. He might think her beautiful, but feminine standards were higher.

She looked at him, feeling purified. She suspected, however, that his thoughts were anything but pure at the moment. Sitting on a low stool, his long legs folded at the knee, he could not conceal the massive erection in his knee-length drawers.

Ah. How wonderful to see him stripped down. Fine leather breeches were not made to withstand bathwater.

The drawers were made of linen that creased where he creased. They cupped his balls just so. His cock had risen well up within them, almost lying against the very inside of his thigh. She could see the dark curls all that glorious male flesh sprang from right through the linen.

Marko looked down. “I cannot help it.”

Severin savored his embarrassment. It was one thing to be an angel of mercy, but it must be quite another to have to care for her with a rod that size getting in the way.

“You are forgiven,” she said.

He stood up and adjusted his various parts so that he could sit comfortably.

Shamelessly, Severin watched. Her hesitancy had vanished utterly from her mind the second she’d seen him lying sprawled on her bed. And now she got to look at him in nothing but a wet shirt and drawers. Bare-legged and barefooted. His hair tousled from the heat and moisture in the air.

And he was so hard.

She wanted more. Severin took the soap and rubbed it over her breasts, although they were perfectly clean. She squeezed the bar a bit too hard and it shot out of her hand, landing on the floor.

He reached for it.

“Never mind. I have enough.” She made a good lather and lavishly caressed both breasts with it. His eyes were riveted on what she was doing. She closed her eyes and purred as she lathered up more, lifting her breasts and pressing them back against herself. Then she opened her fingers over them and captured each nipple between her middle fingers and forefingers.

Again she squeezed and rubbed. She looked down at her nipples and not at him. Severin was sure he liked to think of women pleasuring themselves alone.

Her soap-tipped nipples stood out between her sliding fingers. Up and down. Then around. And again.

Marko gasped, as if the erotic sight were too much for him. Then he leaned forward and placed his hands over hers.

Her fingers kept the nipples up. His palms stimulated the tips. Together they rubbed. Severin lifted her head and he captured her lips in a kiss, thrusting his tongue deeply into her mouth. She moaned around it. A deep pulsing began low in her belly.

She was going to come. Her own skillful stimulation of her breasts, the sliding tightness of her fingers around her erect nipples, and his palms, circling, exciting the very tips she presented to him…ohhhh.

He knew she was experiencing orgasm. He did not alter his subtle attention to her sensitive flesh, but his kissing intensified.

Severin moaned, long and low, letting the waves of pure pleasure course through her entire body. Oh dear God…ohhhh…it felt so wonderful…

She let go of her breasts at last and her hands dropped into the water. He laughed, a deep, sensual, very male laugh, and splashed the soap off her breasts.

They gleamed, water dripping off the elongated nipples, and she laughed with him. Then she glanced down.

The front of his drawers was soaked with jism. He shook his head. “I came when you did.”

“Without touching yourself?”

“My hands were on you, Severin. And so were my eyes. It was more than enough.”

“Take them off.”

He stood and gingerly peeled off his drawers.

“You might as well throw them in the tub.”

“Thank you,” he laughed. “I feel privileged to have such a beautiful laundress wash my dirty drawers for me.”

“They are not dirty—it is only come. But I didn’t say I would wash them. No, this tub is big enough for two. Climb in.”

She leaned back as he lifted one big leg and set a foot down carefully in the tub. She couldn’t resist what she saw and reached up to stroke his balls, heavy and round.

“Like the low-hanging fruit, do you?”

Severin sat up and gave him a nuzzle there before he could get his other leg over. “It is the sweetest,” she said and pressed a kiss to his thigh for good measure. Then she let him get in.

“Ahhh,” he said. Their legs tangled and their feet bumped but they figured it out. “Still hot, I see.” He reached down between his legs and adjusted himself again.

“It is your turn,” Severin said.

“For what? I have already come.”

“I want to do what you have done for me, Marko. You need to be washed all over and scrubbed and—”

Severin almost said loved. She gazed at him with shimmering eyes and he returned her look without speaking. Then he handed her a washcloth.

“Have at,” was all he said. “I’m yours.”

Within another hour, they were in bed. She was sitting up, resting her fine bare behind on a pillow. Between her widely spread thighs was her sweet, freshly washed cunny, plump as a peach, swollen with sexual excitement.

He craved a taste of it.

Marko kneeled in front of her on the bed and nuzzled her neck, letting her rub her bare breasts and sucked nipples against his chest. She gave little cries of pleasure and tugged at his earlobes.

He muttered his appreciation into her mouth, then pulled away a little. “Spread your legs more,” he said roughly.

She put her hands on her thighs and stroked them, wiggling to show herself better. Her action made a fine display of her tight cunny and her willingness excited him. It was unlike her. And then he whispered. “Touch yourself there, Severin. As if you had just come home from—from a ball and found yourself aroused by your partner. You need to be satisfied right away.”

“Yes,” she murmured. One of her hands moved to her cunny and he stiffened with excitement when she slipped two fingers into her slit.

“Go ahead,” he whispered into her ear. “Show me how you pleasure yourself when there is no one to see.”

Her eyes drifted half-closed. Almost lazily, Severin stroked in between the plump halves of her cunny, thrusting in to make her fingers slick again.

Marko took her wrist and brought her hand to his mouth, licking each fingertip just as he had wanted to do when he’d first seen her. They were not gilded now, but if anything, they were prettier.

Flushed pink. Tasting of the sweet female flesh they had touched. He sucked on her fingertips and Severin moaned. She rose slightly, then sprawled back upon the bed, completely supported and comfortable.

Marko brought the hand he was holding to one of her breasts and rested it there, then did the same with the other.

“Tease your nipples while I taste your clit,” he told her huskily. “You and I both know how good it will feel.”

He waited to see her begin, and slid his hands under her bottom. The abundant flesh filled his palms and he squeezed each cheek in sensual rhythm before he went down on her.

Severin tugged fiercely at her nipples. He alternated the squeezes, then did both sides of her arse at once. She was literally in his hands, wriggling with wanton pleasure.

He leaned forward and sought out her clit with a probing tongue, teasing it up from the surrounding flesh. Flicking it.

The sensation made her thrust up in tiny pushes. He touched his tongue to her clit each time and kept on squeezing her behind in his strong hands.

Severin moaned too loudly and he stopped, sliding his hands out from under her arse, then sitting up and wiping his mouth. “Not yet, Severin. You have already come once. You are a greedy one, my girl.”

“Ohhhh…”

Severin looked at him. The massive cock that she had handled so freely before stood straight up and the heavy balls beneath it were drawn against his body.

Marko quickly encircled it with one hand, drawing down the foreskin and releasing the head. Her eyes widened at the sight of the pearly drop that trembled on it. She knew there was more, far more, where that single drop had come from, even though just looking at her had made him soak his drawers with jism. She wanted all of it, in hot jets. In her. On her.

She stayed where she was on the bed, reaching out to him. On all fours, he moved over her, letting her rub her bare breasts with his cock. Shamelessly, she trapped the shaft between them, squeezing the soft flesh in precisely the rhythm he had employed to stimulate her buttocks.

Marko gasped. She continued to press and rub, tipping her head up. Her tongue just reached his nipples. They were too flat to suck but she could flick at them. And she did.

He reached down and cupped his hands over hers. Severin continued to excite him, knowing he wanted to savor it, knowing he loved having his big rod enfolded in a woman’s full breasts.

She pushed his hands gently away as she let go. Released, his cock bobbed in midair. Severin put out her tongue and licked the hole in the tip as precisely as he had licked her clit.

Marko only pretended to be made of sterner stuff than she. He was a man like any other. He moaned with enjoyment.

“How do you want me?” she asked boldly. “On my back now? On all fours?”

He growled, “Both.”

“Which one first?”

“As you are. On your back.”

Severin lifted her legs and held them far apart with her hands. Letting him see everything a man might want to see. With another growl, a deeper one, he clasped an ankle and then the other, lifting the lower half of her body from the bed.

Severin clutched the sheets. What she was about to get, she didn’t know, but she was ready for anything.

With one big hand, he managed to hold both her ankles. Two fingers of the other slowly penetrated her cunny. Severin cried aloud, enjoying the vigorous but gentle thrusting. He would have been too big for her otherwise and his amorous preparation would serve them both well.

Breathing hard, Marko wiped his slick fingers carelessly on his thigh as he set her down. Severin knew exactly what she was getting next.

A beautiful man on top of her, naturally dominant. Her secret dream come true.

And he had come prepared. Marko turned to find his clothes again and retrieved a condom folded inside a paper from some hidden place. He unrolled it as she watched, handling the thin membrane carefully as he slid it over his massive rod.

“You are a gentleman.”

He looked up from his sensual task. “You are worth it.”

Marko slid over her in another second and Severin grasped his cock to guide him in. Their eyes met. Something in his look made her shiver. With pleasure. And also with an edge of fear.

She positioned the head at her cunny and he thrust in with a sound that was almost a roar. He was huge. She was eager—and ready. She pushed her hips to take it all.

Marko fucked her sweet and slow, reaching down to grip the condom and keep it on. That he would bother with one meant a great deal to her. She had been so aroused, she almost had not cared, and had not asked him to come outside her body.

He had been ahead of her on that. Ah, he was a man she could love…Severin reached around him to stroke his back, then let her hands move down to his buttocks. They clenched with every stroke and she grabbed them, holding on tight, pulling him still deeper within her until he moaned.

“No…not yet…no!”

Marko pulled out of her. Severin reached up to him but he was too tall for her to easily capture. “What is it?”

“I said I wanted you both ways,” he said, his voice raw with desire. “Get on all fours.”

Severin was happy to do his bidding. He positioned himself this time, taking a little time to catch his breath before the first thrust in this new position.

This time he did not move slowly. She could feel his fingers encircling the base of his cock, hanging on to the condom for dear life as he fucked her with wild abandon.

Severin put her head down and reached back, teasing her clit, stroking his slick balls. Marko’s whole body was shaking. The smooth, extremely deep thrusts, the balls that touched her fingertips when she slid her fingers over her clit had her crazy with pleasure. She cried his name over and over as she came, and he was—yes—right behind her. He let go of his cock and grabbed the front of her hips with both hands, not thrusting, staying rammed all the way inside to feel her pulse around him, giving it to her all the way, almost lifting her off the bed.

Marko howled when his orgasm hit. The sound was primitive, more animal than human.

Slowly, slowly, almost sobbing, he came back to being a man again. He pulled out and collapsed on the bed. Spent. Sweating. Blissful. The condom had miraculously stayed on.

Severin marveled at him. Even when he was trembling, Marko looked powerful. She wiped the sweat from his brow and blew gently on his furry chest to cool it.

Eyes closed, he growled his thanks.

It was odd how like an animal he could seem, but he was very much a man. A glorious, incredibly sexual man.

Not her man, though. Her conscience pricked her. She had only lain with him to satisfy her physical needs, she told herself. At least at this most vulnerable of moments for both of them, she did not have to look into his eyes.

An unexpected wave of tenderness for him nearly made her cry.

Not yet, Severin, she told herself fiercely. Not yet.