“Then you like me just a little?” He continued to tease the tip of her breast.
Charles squirmed at the sensation. “There is rather a great difference between like and hate, my lord.”
“Yes, there is.” He’d brought her other nipple to a similar peak, admiring his handiwork while she bit back a moan. “Kiss me, Charles, like you mean it.”
Her eyes widened.
“Go on,” he pressed, and when she still hesitated, he added, “You did before,” making her blush to remember her response to him but yesterday. She wished she’d controlled herself better.
“Kiss me,” he insisted.
So she did, timidly at first, lips touching his own softly, yet when he brought her hand to the back of his head, urging her to take charge, she pulled him to her with both hands, eliciting an agreeable rumble from his chest. She explored him more daringly, entering his mouth to twine her tongue about his own, until she felt desire slick her core. Appalled by her reaction, Charles broke off.
“Well done, my dear,” he praised. “Only why stop?” Wellesley’s eyes were half-lidded with lust.
“I thought . . .” She was furious at herself for still blushing.
“You have no idea how arousing you are right now, Charles.”
“I am not trying to arouse, my lord, I am simply obeying your?—”
“Stop hampering your response, girl.” His hand suddenly placed her own upon his erect sex, making her gasp. “I am not”—he pressed her hand more firmly to him—“interested in control right now. I am interested in us enjoying one another, in you letting go your inhibitions and allowing your body to simplyfeel.”
“Oh,” she breathed, air escaping her lips as he curled her hand around his manhood, forcing her to grasp the full, hard length of him. He guided her hand in strokes though she dared not look at what he was having her do.
“There are many ways a mistress may please her master, Charles, and this is but one. Take me in hand now and coax meto pleasure. I’ve pleasured you enough, girl. It is your turn to please me.”
He lay back, throwing off the covers to expose her hand on his sex, as she gazed in disbelief to see her fingers curled about his massive member.
“Do not disappoint me, Charles.” His hand guided her anew. “Feel my response, bring me to release.” His voice caught on the word, jarring her into action.
Charles knew it was her job to bring Lord Wellesley pleasure, but until now her position as mistress had not fully sunk in.
She must learn to please.
He let her practice, a groan escaping his lips as he urged her to stroke him faster. She did, shocked by both her own awkward actions and his body’s quick reaction, before he suddenly tensed, spilling over her hand, his sex throbbing in her fist. She froze, startled by his response—and oddly proud of herself.
His eyes closed in satisfaction, a smile hovering at his lips, before his gaze flicked to her own.
“Well done, mistress.” His smile deepened. “Now wipe me clean and kiss me again, like you mean it.”
Charles used the sheet to mop his seed, amazed to find he’d shrunk substantially in size. Then she timidly traced the line of hair that led from his gut to his chest, kissing him there before she ran her tongue along the length. He growled low in his throat, his hand grabbing the nape of her neck to pull her to his mouth as his lips hungrily took her own. His tongue thrust with a renewed need she felt echo in her own loins, making her shiver in response to his demanding, searing kiss.
When he broke off he looked at her sharply, his hand still possessive at her neck before he pushed her to his waist, to where his sex showed fresh interest. “Take me in your mouth now,” he ordered, “like your hand, but use lips and tongue, no teeth. Swallow.”
In shock she did as bid, his sex filling her mouth to swell in size until it pressed against her throat, his grip on her neck urging her to take him deeper still, until she thought she might gag.
Charles struggled to breathe even as she struggled to please, having no idea what to do or how the devil to do it. She fast gave up trying, letting him simply use her mouth until he finished in her throat, sated.
He pulled her off, panting almost, as she wiped her lips with the back of her hand in disgust at what he’d just done—had justmadeher do. She hid her face in abject humiliation, imagining what her mother would think from her grave, to see her daughter reduced to such rank, sick depravity.
***
Wells lay in a warm stupor, suffused with lingering waves of pleasure. “You are a quick study, Charles.” He sighed, content. “And have pleased me well this morning.” He placed a hand at her waist. “Shall I please you in return?”
“Don’t,” she nearly choked, “touchme.” She turned her entire body from him.
“Charles?” He frowned, reaching for her. “Charles, look at me.”
