MORE NOVEL THOUGH!!!!!
LOTS OF LOVE
The next few days passed slowly,
Jess never saw her despicable husband. She heard him come in at night, knocking
over things, a stumbling drunk. He was already up and out of the manor when she
awoke. His absence was perfectly acceptable to Jess; her unwilling husband had
been so gentle and passionate in their first coupling. Jess’s heart sank when
she remembered that Wesley meant to have her whenever he wanted.
Wesley
was no longer her husband, but a fiercely possessive man that was as cruel as
he was unjust. His hand had left large bruises that had covered her flank. They
were beginning to be less painful. Jess wished that she was in less pain
emotionally; Wesley had every right to do what he wished with her. She was completely
at his mercy.
Jess
stood in the parlor waiting, the official proper wait after a couple is married
was over and Jess expected that she would have a few callers.
Kendal
walked in and announced, “His Grace’s brother, the Marquis of Kent.” Cohen
breezed in, and Jess felt an easy smile cover her face, so unlike the forced
ones she had employed when there were servants around, in the effort to keep
the illusion of a happy married couple alive.
“Sister!”
Cohen walked over and brushed a kiss over her cheekbone. “How are you?” Jess
smiled inwardly at her brother in-laws inappropriate action, the kiss so
effortless and casual, so Cohen.
“I
am very well, good, fine.”
“What
has he done?” Cohen looked concerned, he searched her face and Jess tried to
cover whatever he saw there.
“He
hasn’t done anything. Nothing is amiss.” Jess’s voice cracked, and knew that
the lie wasn’t convincing.
Cohen
pulled her into his arms and said, “Jessica, tell me what is wrong. Yes I know
something is wrong, the light is out of your eyes. Tell me what my damned
brother has done to make you miserable.”
Jess
felt her sorrow come up she was an even worse liar than she thought. Who was
she fooling, she was miserable. “Oh Cohen, it is everything, he is so mean. He
is abusive and awful and I am trapped here indefinitely, I have no one. He can
do anything to me, no one would even care.”
Cohen
brought her head up so he could look in her eyes, “Jessica Ketterick, how is my
brother being abusive? I’ll kill him if he has harmed you. I care about you. He
is my brother and best friend but he is not allowed to be mean to you. Jessica,
how is he hurting you?”
“He
beat me.” Jess broke into tears and her head fell against his chest and her tears
flowed and soaked his shirt.
Her
tears continued until she regained control and her sobs ceased to embarrassing
hiccoughs. Jess remained in Cohen’s arms feeling his arms holding her together.
His presence soothing her, so almost like his brother, yet where Cohen offered
her safety and warmth, York offered her passion. She was horribly angry at
York-Wesley; but she wished he would come home. Sitting in her brother’s
masculine arms, she vaguely reminded herself how inappropriate their current
action was, but Jess felt nothing but an avuncular love for Cohen.
“Am
I interrupting something?” A deadly voice came from the doorjamb. Jess panned
her head around and found Wesley standing in the doorway. His eyes were
narrowed furiously. She looked around and realized how this must look.
Jess
drew herself out of Cohen’s arms, “No Wesley! Wesley it isn’t what it looks
like. Cohen was comforting me.”
Wesley’s
eyes flashed dangerously to Cohen, “Comforting her. How exactly are you
comforting my wife, little brother?” Jess’s eyes widened at how Wesley spat his
brother’s name.
Cohen’s
voice shook with an anger that surprised Jess, he looked positively menacing,
quite like his brother. “Don’t pretend she is anything to you.”
The
tension was thick between the brothers, both looked malicious, Wesley’s eyes
were dark gray narrowing in warning and Cohen was tensing his muscles. Though
they were nearly the same size, Wesley looked too big to take on.
Wesley
took a step forward and Cohen pushed Jess behind him. Wesley hissed at this,
“Kent, get out of my way or we are going to come to blows. Let me see my wife.”
Jess gasped at the use of Cohen’s title.
Cohen
swore loudly but followed suit, “York, I am not going to get out of your way so
you can hurt her, and I do believe we are going to come to blows.”
Jess
spoke petrified from behind Cohen, “Both of you stop it; there is no reason to
fight, move past it.”
Cohen
turned to her, “Jessica stay out of this, I am going to fix it.” Cohen turned
to his brother, “Outside?” Without waiting for a reply Cohen walked out of the
parlor. Wesley looked at Jess his mouth curved in anger and impatience and
shook his head and followed his brother.
The
pair of brothers paced briskly out into the front lawn of Atworth, Jess followed
but was unable to keep up. She caught up with them as they were stripping off
jackets and waistcoats, “Stop this, both of you.”
They
paid no attention to her and when they were left in their shirtsleeves, they
faced each other and stopped. They surveyed each other in tense anticipation
before Wesley lunged. The blows came, the sound of skin hitting skin, bellows
and grunts, of pain and aggression. Jess stood appalled, the pair of brutes,
looked less like the gentlemen they claimed to be than ever, brawling in
shirtsleeves amongst the flowers and trees on manor grounds, where anyone could
see.
Wesley
reared back and swung, his big meaty fist connecting squarely with Cohen’s
chin. Cohen reeled but miraculously stayed on his feet, using the momentum to
throw a fist into Wesley’s stomach.
A
carriage clattered up and Drake led a group of men out, they saw the fight and
ran to Jess.
“Who
is winning? Anyone care to make a wager?” Drake said breathless with excitement,
he and the other gentlemen watched avidly.
“Are
you jesting? Pull them apart, they could hurt each other.” Jess commanded as
she watched tense with fear for both of them.
“Not
on a life. They are far too equally matched. We have been waiting for them to
fight, but they never have before. Something really must have riled them.” A
light haired man grinned down at her, his eyes warm with amusement, “Oh,
William Drahcastle, Duke of Rowell,” he answered to Jess’s unasked question. Jess
glared at the fair haired man, he was far too casual about the fight, did he
not realize they could be hurt? Or did the men not care?
Jess’s
attention was pulled back to the fight when she heard a collective gasp from
the spectators.
Wesley
was pummeling Cohen’s stomach in a series of brutal blows, when Cohen lunged
and his fist connected with Wesley’s mouth. Jess screamed.
The
scream reverberated around the grassy lawn, and shocked and stilled the
combatants. Wesley and Cohen turned and ran to Jess.
“What’s
wrong, what is the matter?” Cohen yelled coarsely as they approached. Jess
forgot her fear upon seeing the state of her husband and brother in law’s
faces.
Cohen’s
face was marred by a large black eye that was deeply purple and swelling his
eye closed. The handsome face of her husband was tainted by a split lip that
was spilling blood and a swelling jawline.
Jess
fainted.
“Christ,”
Wesley breathed, “You utter arse, Cohen, look what you did to her.” Wesley
pulled Jess’s still unconscious form into his arms. He turned to Drake, “Take
her so I can continue thrashing my brother.”
“Thrashing
me? You are the one who most deservedly was being thrashed.” Cohen said
viciously, his hands gently touching his swollen eye. Cohen winced as his
fingers probed a particularly sensitive area.
“A
quick observation, gentlemen, neither of you had an upper hand.” Drake said
wryly.
“Give
me Jess! You keep your hands off her.” Cohen growled.
“Little
brother, I should say the same to you. You would be wise to never touch the
Duchess of York.” Wesley spat.
“Cohen
you are no longer welcome. Leave. The rest of you come in,” Wesley turned and
strode to the manor, where the door stood open still. Drake, William, and Damon
looked at each other and followed.
He
was well concealed in the bushes in front of the York’s manor. Ian Cuthbridge
watched York and his brother, the Marquis of Kent fight. Ian wished so hard
that it was painful that he could lay his fists into that pompous York. Ian
thought with a satisfied smile that he had killed the man’s uncle, even if it
hadn’t allowed for him to gain a large windfall. Ian would have killed Hale
Ketterick just to spite his nephew, Wesley.
So
privileged and self-righteous, ever since they had met Ian hated the man. Ian
had been forced to work every day to gain his wealth. His work was not always
legal, in fact his work never was. Ian made the majority of his wealth of the
stealing, or removing as he liked to think of it, riches from wealthy
aristocrats and merchant class. Ian was not above violence to get what he wanted. But York, he got whatever
he wanted just because he was a duke and because, Ian thought angrily, York cut
an impressive figure.
Ian
wanted to take his scabbard and ruin that pretty little mouth that smiled so
contemptuously. Ian felt a wild pang of jealousy, it was no wonder, York was
able to marry and bed the beautiful Lady Jessica Wilmore. The thought of her
made his loins stir. Ian wondered if his damnable desire for the new duchess
was because of her incredible magnetism or because he wished to ruin something
that belonged to York. He supposed the latter.
She
was no doubt the cause of the men’s fight, she was breathtaking from a
distance, and close up she would be completely intoxicating. Ian imagined
taking her body, making her scream for him, as he took pleasure deep within
her. After making her scream in ecstasy, he would make her scream in pain. Ian
knew that York would not take that easily; York would probably try and kill him.
Good. Ian would be able to kill him, easily. Ian smiled to himself, he would
kill York slowly, and he would make York watch Ian rape his wife and then kill
her.
Wesley was yelling, Jess thought hazily as she
regained consciousness. She kept her eyes closed but listened to his gruff
voice, “Cohen, you must leave.”
“No
brother, not when you are acting this way, you are being a petulant child.”
Jess mentally recoiled at Cohen’s anger, he was such a happy and untroubled
man, she had made him troubled. Jess remembered what had happened when a flood
of memories hit her. Cohen had misunderstood, Wesley had not brutally beaten
her as he had thought, Jess had been miserable because of the confining nature
of her marriage. And Wesley, he had misunderstood Cohen and her embrace
thinking that it was romantic instead of comforting.
Jess
stayed silent pretending she had not awoken, their fight, how horrible. Wesley
had the slight edge, but they had both done harm. Their rumble had marred their
lovely faces. Jess wallowed in guilt; she had been the cause just as their
blonde friend, William, had said. How can I face them, Jess lamented, how could
she explain now. The situation was even worse now that Drake had arrived with
his friends in tow. Drake’s rashness and action-prone nature would make this an
even bigger issue.
Jess
heard Drake enter the conversation, “So if I may, what led to the fight and my
favorite cousin fainting.”
There
was a significant pause; Jess imagined the brothers surveying each other, well
aware that they could not tell the truth as it would no doubt end in a field of
honor. Jess made a slight noise in horror of the thought of her husband facing
her cousin, either dying.
Jess
felt a hand on her cheek, “Are you awake, Love?” Wesley, she could tell it was
him, without opening her eyes by the feeling in her belly elicited by his
touch. Unconsciously Jess moved her head to meet his touch.
“I
haven’t yet decided,” Jess murmured and she heard the low chuckle in response,
“Are you hurt?” She opened her eyes and looked up at her husband; she realized
that she was lying on the couch in Wesley’s study.
“I
could ask the same for you.”
Jess
pushed herself into a seated position and took in no less than twelve men that
were scattered around the study, “I am fine,” Jess said to Wesley before
addressing the rest of the men, “Well I
wish I could have met you all under different circumstances, but Hello. I am
Jessica Ketterick.” Jess stood and walked around the room meeting Wesley’s
friends. They were all rough and tumble, Jess thought as if they were going to
fight a war.
Jess
asked the room, “And how did you all meet?”
A
raven haired man answered, his teeth were the brightest of whites, his eyes
winked at her, “I am Damon Segal, Marquis of Denham, and your beloved husband
was the leader of us blackguards; before he married, I am sure.”
Jess
looked at Drake and Cohen, “The leader of blackguards? Drake, I know that you
have sown your wild oats. But you Cohen, I expected so much more out of you.”
Cohen
looked sheepish even with his blackened eye, “I do not deserve your good
opinion.”
Chuckles
surged from the assemblage, they seemed to know much more than Jess did. The
fair haired man, named William stepped forward, “Well, Jessica, We would like
to welcome you as the first of the wives of the Assembly of Cads.”
Jess
stopped, “Excuse me? The Assembly of Cads?”
Wesley
broke in, “Alright gents, thank you for that. I hadn’t told her yet. Get out.”
His voice was not angry but strained and as the men filed out of the room, he
looked tensely at Jess.
When
they were alone, Wesley started, “I—
Jess
overrode him, “Hush, don’t explain. I don’t want or need it. Come here, I need
to look at your lip.”
Wesley
smiled and for a moment Jess saw the rake that she knew her husband to be, “I
would like to look at your lips too, darling. But I am sure we could find a
better use for them.”
Jess
smiled but was not dissuaded, though she felt a familiar but rocking wave of
fire through her abdomen. “Be serious for a moment, your lip will scar if we
don’t do something about it. Come here.” Jess sat Wesley on the couch and
called for a footman, “Please bring me gauze, powder and a bandage.”
“And
brandy too,” Wesley added.
Jess
shook her head but allowed it to be brought as well. With her supplies in hand
she began patching up his lip.
Her
hands were deft, Wesley supposed, they seemed practiced as if she had training
in the matter. His lip was not his most grave injury, his chest was on fire.
Wesley knew however that the thing that hurt the most was his pride.
With
her attentions focused on his lip, Wesley was staring right into her bosom. She
was a thing of beauty, even when she was angry, especially when she was angry,
with her cheeks flushed a deep red. Wesley felt his blood rise; Jess seemed to
read his mind.
“No,
no. None of that,” Jess’s fingers left his face, “Where else are you hurt?”
Wesley
hesitated before grudgingly telling her, “My ribs.” Her hands guided him down
until he was laying on the couch, in a position reminiscent of how he had laid
Jessica down when she had fainted. Her fingers quickly opening his shirt, she
was unaware the effect she was having on him, the pressure of his desire was
warring with the pain of his injuries.
Wesley
heard a gasp, he looked up into Jessica’s face a look of horror covered it
momentarily before being masked with calmness.
“I
need some ointment,” Jess called.
“I
do not. What I need is some brandy.”
“Brandy
is not going to heal the mass of bruises that is your chest.” Wesley looked
down at his chest, it wasn’t pretty. The skin was shades of yellow, green, and
black. Wesley shrugged, it wasn’t the worst he’d ever had. Wesley knew that if
he was hurting at least Cohen was hurting in the same way, as he deserved.
“It
isn’t that bad, you should see Cohen.”
“I
did see Cohen, you fool. You are the most pigheaded person I have yet to meet,”
Jess spat angrily, and then to the footman who brought the ointment, “Thank you
that will be all.” She began to smooth the cream into his chest. The pain
quickly ebbed but was replaced by a growing discomfort at the swelling in his
loins; he supposed that she wouldn’t help soothe that. He shook himself
mentally, trying to tap down on his baser instincts. They had never been so
potent, only with her.
“Why
am I the most pigheaded man? Because I am not willing to share you with my
brother?”
“We were not
embracing romantically; honestly, you are the only person who would think
that.”
“You may have
not been embracing him romantically, but I can assure you, my brother is no
saint even though you see him that way. Why were you entwined then?” Wesley
knew his brother’s aptitude for women, and though Cohen was a generally happy
individual, he was a red-blooded male.
Jess was silent,
she was biting her lip. “He was comforting me.”
Wesley was off
the couch in an instant a surge of protectiveness, no possessiveness shot
through him, she was concealing something, she is lying he thought all of the
blood rushing out his brain as he staggered to his feet, “The devil, honor will
be met.”
Jess pushed him
back, her hands touching Wesley’s chest and he winced feeling a burst of pain,
“Sit down, you can’t take even the slightest touch, how are you going to hold a
pistol?” Jessica waited for Wesley to sit back down, “Besides, he was consoling
me, because I was crying.”
Wesley felt the
pain that was in her eyes, he had really hurt her, he didn’t doubt her for a
moment, and Cohen had been the man to console his wife while he was out
unsuccessfully trailing Cuthbridge.
Wesley caught her hands in his and waited
until her eyes would meet his, “Love, I have never been so sorry, I don’t
deserve your forgiveness, I was a wicked rake and I so regret it.” Wesley
couldn’t keep the laugh out of his apology, the whole situation too ridiculous
to even consider. However, Wesley needed
desperately for her to believe him, he was so sorry for taking her so
viciously, she was too much, she elicited to strong a response from him, from
all males.
Wesley watched
every flicker of motion on her face, she seemed undecided. She finally
answered, “I forgive you if you can forgive me.”
Wesley’s heart leapt but at the same time
became cold, what could she have done, he realized it didn’t matter no matter
what, if she could forgive him, he would find a way to understand and acquit
her of guilt. “What am I forgiving you for?”
“You are
hopefully going to excuse me for making Cohen angry at you.”
Wesley realized,
quite belatedly that Cohen had been very angry at him, “Oh yes, why is my dear
brother so irate?”
Jessica again
hesitated before averting her eyes and saying in a small voice, “He
misunderstood, Cohen thinks you have been beating me.”
Wesley actually
felt a humorless laugh rise in him, “I assume that you were less than pleased
that I turned you over my knee?”
“Yes.” Her tone
betrayed the potent fire she possessed.
“Can I also
assume that you didn’t bother to tell Cohen exactly what ‘beating you’ meant?”
“Yes.”
Wesley caught
hands again, “I promise to never spank you again.”
“Good, because I
am not a child.”
Wesley watched
her, trying to raise her spirits, “Unless you ever ask to be punished in that
way, some find it highly erotic.”
His words did
not please Jessica as he had hoped they would, “I never wish to be punished in
bed again.” Wesley again felt like the blackguard that he was famed to be.
“I also promise
to not take you again until you wish me to, I will never ask you to as I said,
‘anytime anywhere’.” Wesley felt his promise already hurt him as all of his
instincts raged toward taking his highly seductive and far too innocent wife.
“Well I fear,
that may not happen for a while, especially for now. You are not to ride, or
walk, or box, or make love until your chest heals.” Jess stepped out of reach
and smiled, “I am going to go find a footman to help you up to bed.”
Wesley lay there
his mind reeling, she had completely overpowered him, it was emasculating. Just
a few weeks ago he had never met Jessica, he had been completely in control of
his own destiny, and he had drunk, had many assignations with beautiful women
and reveled with his friends. It amazed Wesley how his former life paled in
comparison.
Wesley was even
more amazed at how Jessica had managed to cede all the power away from him in
the past few days, she had gotten everything she wanted, and all he could do
for at least the next few days was lie there and take it.
Wesley vowed
that he would continue to enforce the one rule he still had left, they would
honor their vows as best they could, and she would continue to stay in the
manor, not leave as she was apparently so capable of.
Jess felt pleased with herself, she
had gotten what she wanted; he had apologized and recanted his crude pledge
that he would have her anytime he wanted. It had been three days since the
fight and Jess couldn’t help but feel lonely, she was disturbed by the feeling.
Before her marriage Jess had mostly talked with Marianna when she wanted for
company. Jess had been a solitary person ever since the incident with Thomas
Holt, who had made her distrustful.
They had been friends as children and
soon after her sixteenth birthday, Thomas had suggested they become something
more. Jessica had assumed that he meant he would become her beaux and they
would eventually wed.
What Thomas had envisioned was far
more rakish, he was a known lothario, except to Jess. Jess was in love with
him, his long gleaming hair that was far too long, his easy charming smiles.
Jess thought back with revulsion, how had she not seen that the smiles masked
the snake that was Thomas Holt. One day he suggested they take a picnic, on the
blanket stretched in front of the sea, he had assaulted her.
Jess shivered when she remembered the
way he had gone rigid then jumped atop her, his mouth hard and unrelenting.
Jess had been frightened at his ferocity and had screamed. She remembered his
spike in excitement at her cry for help and he had grabbed her breast knuckling
roughly.
He would have taken her, even though
she had been unwilling, but Jess had been struggling with him and she had
summoned the strength to push him off her. She ran and he watched screaming
after her, horrible things about her being a tease and a whore that would
surely come back.
She had not.
From that day forward, Jess had vowed
to be completely in control of her own life. She had gotten Drake to teach her
basic self-defense, concentrating on how to incapacitate a man who was trying
to ravish her. She began to leave the
confines of her stuffy society life, feeling in control of her own destiny.
Despite her typical distrust of people,
Jess truly wished for someone to talk to, she acknowledged that she could go
talk to her husband; Wesley had been lying in bed for the past three days. He
would probably welcome a break in the tedium, but Jess knew that if she went to
him in a social capacity, she would probably end up throwing herself at him.
Jess’s desire had grown substantially
over Wesley’s laid up time, every time she had gone to treat him, she had to
fiercely tamp down on the flames that welled deep in her most secret place.
Wesley’s injuries were healing well and she knew that she had touched him more
than what was totally necessary. But Jess could not give in to her desire for
Wesley; she would be giving up all the power that she had gotten.
Kendal summoned her from her quiet luncheon of grapes and cheese,
“Madam? York wishes that you would come to his assistance.”
Jess finished the last of her tea and
followed Kendal to Wesley’s room. She was bade entrance and she crossed into
his room. Wesley looked frightening, his beard far overgrown giving him the
appearance of a pirate. “Jessica, love? Please say I am better. I am going to
go mad if I am not able to move around soon.”
“Don’t rush your recovery, you’ll hurt
yourself. Is that why you called me in here? To whine?” Jess said, exasperated.
Wesley smiled, “No that is not the
reason I called you in here. I got a letter back.”
Jess immediately crossed to where
Wesley had pointed, the first day of Wesley’s bed rest, he had penned an
explanation to Cohen along with both of their apologies. Jess’s had been long
and heartfelt. Wesley’s had been concise.
Jess read aloud, “Dearest Brother, I
am ashamed. I regret fighting you with such fervor. You would not beat anyone
and I was foolish to think that low of you. I can only hope you can forgive me.
I am not at all angry at your mistake, but to think that I was going to ravish
your wife? I am wholly surprised at our follies. Please tell Jessica that she
is not to blame and I would continue to defend her if I ever get the chance.
When I am able to walk again, I shall call. Your technique in fisticuffs is
still quite capable. I am bruised from head to toe. Fondly, Cohen.”
Jess
looked up gauging Wesley’s reaction, “Well?”
“Well what?” Wesley asked.
“Well what do you think about his
response?”
“I think that it was incredibly Cohen
in style,” he paused gazing at Jess, “Darling, he echoes my opinion that it was
not your fault.”
Jess nodded but changed topics, “I
think you may be better.”
“Superb. I am going to need help
shaving, would you please help, I would not use Kendal, I do not need manly
assistance.”
Jess was taken aback, “You are going
to shave?”
“Yes, and you are going to help. Would
you hand me that kit?”
Jess shocked, obeyed and began with
alacrity gathering the supplies. Wesley stayed in bed and quickly and deftly
rid him of the long whiskers that adorned his face, Jess marveled at his
precision and gentleness that seemed impossible coming from such a large man.
After he had rinsed off his face,
Wesley gingerly got out of bed, “Alright next task, I am going to bathe and I
am going to need assistance there as well.”
“You do not need my assistance; you
are trying to seduce me.” Jess shot at him, seeing through the ruse, though
Jess squirmed trying to tamp down the sparks flying through her in wanton
anticipation.
Wesley’s face changed into one of hurt
but his eyes sparkled mischievously, “I am not, I am merely a hurt man who
needs the ministrations of his faithful nurse. I don’t think I can do it all by
myself, you may have to lead.” He smirked wickedly and Jess gaped.
Jess tossed her head, quickly thinking of a way to
turn the situation back to her, “Of course, I’ll lead the way.” The shock was
evident on Wesley’s face, but he turned to the washroom and stepped to the tub.
She spoke again, “Here I will get your clothes.” He was wearing a loose shirt
to not restrict his chest; she slid her hands to the buttons and began to slip
them off. She kept her movements arrested but she knew the effect she was
having as she heard a soft moan come from the back of his throat. She reveled
in her power.
She slipped the shirt off his
shoulders running her hands over the hard muscles of his arms and shoulders.
She felt a slight shiver emanate from him. She turned her attention to his buff
breeches, she ran her hands over the front, she saw the tightening of his body.
She asked cheekily, “Is something wrong? I am just helping you bathe.”
He nodded coolly but his eyes betrayed
his state, they were dark with passion. She smiled and turned back to his
navel, she could see and feel his rigid cock and she began her movements to
free it. She slowly unfastened the clasps and his phallus emerged dark and
throbbing. Jess ignored it and knelt before him using her fingertips to draw
his breeches slowly of his hard thighs one at a time. When they were off she
heard a soft moan come from Wesley. She stood slowly arching her back so that
she nearly rose against him.
“Into the tub,” Jess ordered wondering
where all of his pride had gone, he was holding himself tightly in check, and
she couldn’t wait to make him lose that last bit of strength. She couldn’t deny
the warmth that flowed through her body; she loved seeing the pleasure and
desire mount in Wesley.
Wesley settled in the water, and
smiled up at her, “What next sweet temptress? You don’t mean to wash me
yourself?”
“Oh I do, Wesley.” Jess took a cloth
and a bar of soap and said, “Lean forward so I can wash your back.” She made
small circles on the muscles of his back; he was beautiful, so well formed,
much like a Grecian statuette. She gently pulled him back so she could begin to
soap his chest. She allowed for her nails to nip at his sensitive nipples, at
this she heard a small intake of breath and saw his cock flex in response.
She continued soaping paying special
attention to the line of hair that extended down from his stomach to his
maleness. She intentionally bypassed the heated male center, instead soaping
his sensitive inner thighs and strong legs before returning to the object of
her interest. With the cloth in between she took him in her hand. He jerked reflexively, as she began to move
her hand slowly, pumping, paying special attention the slit at the top.
He caught her hand, “I am going to
lose it; you must stop.” His voice was husky with passion but tight with
tension.
“I am being your nurse; I am here for
your comfort.” Jess giggled, making sure he acquiesced. He released her hand
and she moved her hand along the thick shaft slowly at first then with
increasing intensity. He bucked and with a hoarse groan, he came the water
filling with his seed. Jess was shocked for a moment, but she was pleased she
had just seduced her albeit very willing husband. She had made him lose that
last piece of control.
He stood and rinsed himself off, “I am
happy you are pleased with yourself.”
Jess fought to keep the smile off her
face, and lost, “I don’t know what you are talking about.”
Wesley chuckled, it was good that she
was finally realizing her own sexuality and she had certainly learned fast. He
needed no seduction but her actions had brought him to be completely sated.
Wesley grabbed a towel and wrapped it loosely around his waist.
“Will you become my wife again? I have
shown you only the beginnings of my own powers of seduction, and I am willing
to share them with you, but only if you allow me to.” He gazed lazily at Jess
and saw his gorgeous little wife.
She bit her lip and nodded, “I would
like that very much Wesley.” Her eyes were already half lidded and Wesley felt
himself grow hard again.
Wesley wanted to take his pleasure
deep inside her body, but he had a promise to keep. “Come here darling.” She
stepped lightly to him and stopped. Wesley brought his hand up to cradle her
cheek, and bent his head to brush his lips over hers twice before fully capturing
them.
She was fully participating, her mouth
met his already open; she was already excited. Wesley kept his movements slow
and unhurried, which seemed to make Jessica burn even hotter for him. She began
to hurriedly open the buttons that kept her smock on. Wesley allowed her to
drop her smock herself but moved in to take off her chemise himself. As her
lush, beautifully high and rounded breasts came free Wesley bent his head and
captured one peak and suckled shamelessly. How sweet her skin tasted, Wesley
let his teeth scrape lightly over the bud and she arched, staining against his
mouth.
Without moving his head Wesley removed
the last scraps of clothing she wore and moved them to the large gossamer bed.
He set her down and came to lie with his back against the pillows, “Come over
me darling.” Wesley saw the confusion in her face and so he lifted her and
separated her knees with one of his thighs. Jess opened her mouth to protest
but Wesley silenced her objections with what started as a gentle kiss that
turned increasingly passionate as Jess flicked his tongue with her own. Wesley
felt his prick come to full attention.
Wesley moved his hand to probe the
slick bud between her legs that was seductively open behind the triangle of
hair. She tensed to his probing fingers as he sheathed two fingers into her. He
felt a similar tightness come over him he felt as if he was going to burst.
With his fingers still inside her thrusting, he cupped her woman’s mound and
her breaths became pants.
Wesley smiled tenderly, “Hot my dear?”
“Yes… oh… Wesley, I am so hot.”
Wesley thrust his fingers deeper,
making her moan, “I want you to burst into flames, love.” He added his tongue
to the onslaught laving the gentle swell of her breast as she shuddered and
came around his hand. He kept his hand and mouth where it was, lazily soothing
her, allowing her to enjoy her climax fully.
He removed his hand as she finally
stilled and breathed normally. Wesley noted her flushed expression and how her
emerald eyes sparkled, she was even more beautiful in the throes of passion.
She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.
Wesley watched as Jess regained
control, her lips curved into a temptress’s smile, it was both heartbreakingly
beautiful and painfully seductive. Wesley tensed as she looked down at his
erection.
“That won’t do.” Her voice was husky
and alluring; Wesley privately agreed and moved to enter her silken passage.
Jess shook her head and nipped his ear, “I mean to do this.”
Jess maneuvered herself to that she
was straddling him even more provocatively, her cleft nearly touching his
erection. Wesley’s hands came to her curvaceous hips. “No, no.” Jess took his hands
and placed them under his head, “You are all mine.” Her words exploded in his
mind and he had to hold himself tightly in check so she could have her fun and
seduce him. If this was her wish, he would let her do her worst.
Jess reached up and took out the pins
that held her coiffure together, one gleaming tendril released at a time until
Wesley wanted to bury his hands in the silken mass. She shook her head and the
sable locks settled around her round bosom. Her breasts swung down to meet him
as she pressed a feather light kiss to his lips. She began a torturous trail of
kisses down his jaw.
She frequently laved at the skin and
once she finished along his jaw she kissed down his neck and collar bone. He
felt her taut nipples and shining hair graze his abdomen and he jerked. In
response she flicked her tongue over his male nipples.
Wesley was going to explode, “You
torturer.” He could feel her pleasure at the affect she was having on him. She began to move and Wesley thought that she
was stopping; Wesley felt a mixture of relief and disappointment.
But she was not abandoning her sweet
torture; she was shifting so that she could continue kissing her way down his
body. She kissed down his flat abdomen and let her tongue dip into his navel.
Wesley groaned. She was too naïve to do this to him, how was she so damnably
enticing.
All thoughts left him, except that of
tight control when her fingers brushed the softness of his loin sack, her
fingers were gentle and skimmed the line at their base, her deft hands
conforming to their shape.
Wesley lost the last of control as she
touched her tongue to the slit at the top of his manhood. Wesley closed his
eyes and gave himself up to the sensation.
Her mouth enveloped him and her tongue
became bolder, taking long strokes completely sending him over the edge. His
climax was bucking and he gave a hoarse shout of pure exaltation.
