Mary Wine - Improper Seduction

“That courtesan taught you her tricks.”

The dress slumped to the floor, and she stepped out of it. Turning back around, she toyed with the end of the lace that held her corset tightly closed.

“Is there something wrong with my actions? You did tell me to disrobe. Am I doing a poor job of it? Shall I try again?” She bent her knees and lowered her body so that she could grasp the pooled dress.

“Leave it.” He blew out a stiff breath in response.

She straightened and pulled on the tie holding her corset closed. The cord gave way, and the weight of her breasts tugged the lace through the eyelets.

“You need not become cross, my lord. I am simply attempting to make certain that I understand your will.”

“I find myself very pleased with your compliance, Bridget.”

His fingers tightened on his belt but only for a moment. He grasped the end of the belt and tugged it so that the metal tongue that secured it loosened. With a practiced hand, he caught the entire belt and sword, lifting it up to place it on the table that was near the door. He reached up and unbuttoned the first few buttons that held his simple doublet closed. The sight of his shirt drew a memory of the previous night vividly to her mind. She cast her attention down as it planted ideas in her mind of how much she might enjoy being stripped again while he was with her.

He uttered her name in a husky tone that renewed her blush. His lips began to curve. “Dare I hope to be more pleased by your actions?”

She turned her back upon him instead. The lace holding her stays took only a few quick motions to pull loose. The garment instantly fell away from her body. A little sigh of relief rose from her throat as her chemise was allowed to float gently around her natural shape.

A pair of hands cupped her breasts in the next moment. Curan curled around her, leaning over her while his hands began massaging her breasts. Excitement twisted her belly, flooding her with hungry need.

“Perhaps a better question might be, may I hope to please you, sweet Bridget?”

Rapture flowed from his hands into her, the tender globes of her breasts rejoicing in their freedom and the soothing motions of his hands. He chuckled when she did nothing more than lean back to allow him to continue. Her body rejected any course of action that involved interrupting the delightful motion of his hands.

“I should have paid that courtesan, for she did me a favor in agreeing to instruct you.”

He pressed a kiss against her neck and then released her. A whimper rose from her throat as she turned to see where he was. The expression on his face was fascinating to her. There had not been enough light last night to see him clearly. Now, the candles spread their yellow glow over him, giving her an unobstructed view of the hunger dancing in his eyes.

“For she taught you confidence, and that is something that should never be mistaken for a challenge to my authority. Too many fathers demand timidity from their daughters.”

“I never expected a man to understand that.”

“There are many things that you and I still have to learn about one another.” His eyes traveled down her length, pausing on the junction of her thighs. “I have a few ideas on where to begin our study.”

She was tempted to bend beneath the demand that was flickering in his eyes. Her fingers worried the fabric of her chemise, and feeling the fabric between her fingers offered her a path to regaining dominance.

Grasping the fabric, she drew it up her body, baring her knees and thighs, and farther up until the fabric slipped over her head.

“Perfectly done.” His lips pressed into that hard line once again. “Perhaps too well done.”

She lifted one shoulder. “What was that you just said about not caring for timidity?”

He scoffed at her, but amusement danced in his dark eyes.

“Touché, my sweet.”

His hands moved to his britches. He made much faster work of opening the front of the garment, but she was no less captivated. It was a truth that she found his body pleasing to behold. His gaze remained on her the entire time, however, those dark eyes judging her response and possibly her nerve. His pants ended up being thrown away from him with no regard to where they landed.

The heat from the fire bathed her bare skin in warmth, but there was fire flickering in her belly. Knowing what his cock felt like deep inside her seemed to have removed all hesitation from her flesh. Passion sprang to life instantly and without any quibbling from her thoughts. Her nipples drew into hard points, and his gaze dropped down her body to linger on the two jewels. His face became a mask of hunger, and he pulled his shirt up and off with a motion that produced a soft tearing sound.

She did not get the chance to look at him. Curan closed the distance between them too quickly, his hands cupping her face before he claimed her mouth with a hard kiss. His lips demanded a response, and she did not deny him, could not deny him, for she was starving for his touch. Her mouth opened when his tongue teased her lower lip. The organ thrust deep into her mouth, tangling with her own in a dance that sent anticipation through her passage. Her hand reached for him, stroking over his hip and across his lean belly until she found his erect cock. Her fingers curled around the pole, delighting in the smooth skin.

He lifted his head but stood still while her hand stroked his length.

“You are more content in this marriage than you believe, Bridget.”

He released her face and scooped her up in his arms. She gasped at the ease with which he took her complete weight. There was no hint of strain on his face, only a very clear look of victory.

“Passion for the flesh is not something to offer praise for.”

“I disagree.”

He walked to the bed and laid her in the center of it. Satisfaction flickered in his eyes.

“Passion is something that is too often faked by courtesans, and much too often lacking in noble marriage beds.” He cupped one breast as his body stretched out beside hers. “And I intend to show you just how much hotter it may become.”

He leaned down to capture one puckered nipple between his lips. His fingers curled around the soft mound of her breast, raising the nipple up in offering. His mouth eagerly feasted upon the delicate tip, sucking it deeper into his mouth. She had never dreamed that a man’s mouth might be so hot. She twisted and arched while pleasure flowed down her body. His free hand smoothed over her chest and down across her belly until he touched the soft curls that crowned her mons.

“I believe it is time to show you how much I enjoyed your sweet lips around my cock last night.”

His words didn’t make sense, and her mind wasn’t very interested in focusing in order to understand. Bridget was much more interested in his hand resting so softly just above her slit. Hidden between the folds of her sex, her clitoris begged for attention.

“By returning the favor.”

Curan’s voice dipped down until it was nothing but a dark promise. She shivered, her mind offering up an idea that was intoxicating with its imagery.

“Men do not do such things …”

One dark brow rose to mock her. “Why not, sweet wife? Because Marie did not mention it? I will tell you why she did not.” He gently toyed with the curls his fingers were resting on, before his fingertips gently penetrated the moist folds of her sex.

“Men pay a courtesan and expect service for their coin, not to give service in return. You are my wife, and pleasuring you is a challenge that I do not intend to ignore.”

“But men cannot—”

She drew a stiff breath as his fingers found her clitoris. Pleasure shot through her so fast she could not complete her thought. Her heart suddenly pumped harder, feeling as though it was going to bruise against her ribs.