Page 17 of Lady Mariel’s Scandalous Love

Chapter Seven

When he had walked into the room, and asked about her progress, Dash had expected that Mariel might express doubt about being able to complete the translation – for it was a mammoth task, and dealt with subject matter which might reasonably be expected to give a young woman pause. He had not, in any way, expected the answer that she had given.

Yet it was a reasonable difficulty for her to have encountered – one he should have expected, if he had thought about it. Now, here he was, sitting dangerously close to her, having just agreed to work with her, to give her words – words which should not be spoken to a lady. Everything in his education as a gentleman rebelled at the idea. But at the same time, every part of him felt a rush of arousal at the very thought. When she had licked her lips, heat had rushed through him, and gone straight to his groin.

Reading the works in his collection, alone, and imagining what he might do with a woman, was one thing.

Sitting beside a most desirable woman and discussing such things was quite another.

But he wanted that book translated. And, truth to tell, whilst he expected that there would be moments of embarrassment, he was not displeased with the situation. He had found himself, as the days passed, making excuses to come into this room, ostensibly to check on progress, but in reality, simply to see Mariel. She fascinated him.

He had known many women, and his collecting had led him to many strange places, and into unexpected conversations – but in most cases, if those conversations were with women, the women were jaded widows, or skilled courtesans, or sometimes the cheapest of whores – never had they been with unmarried women of the nobility. And the very idea of speaking those words that she wanted, to a woman like Mariel, was shocking, and utterly arousing.

She was arousing, just by being herself. Her bluntness and her interest in sexuality intrigued him, as no delicate flirting ever had. He had long assumed that, when he did eventually marry, his wife would disapprove of his collection, and not wish to even think about such things, let alone discuss them, or even more shocking, indulge in such activities as his collection recorded. Now, after meeting Mariel, the tiniest seed of hope had been planted – was it possible that he might find a woman to marry, who did not turn away in revulsion? Who, perhaps, even welcomed the attentions of a man well versed in the extremes of erotica, and wished to apply that knowledge, and those tools, to her body?

The scent of her surrounded him, intoxicating, disordering his thoughts.

He looked at her, and she licked her lips again. His mind imagined those lips on his body, that tongue tracing the shape of his cock, and he was, instantly, so hard as to be acutely uncomfortable.

“Thank you. Do you… have time to start now? It would help immensely if I had even a few of the most basic words for… bodily parts, and understood the context in which different words might be used.”

Dash forced his mind away from the scenes which his imagination had conjured, and back to the book on the desk.

“I do have some time available, yes.”

The crate that he was part way through unpacking could wait. It was full of dilettos of various shapes and sizes, and some other small items for pleasurable adornment of a woman’s body. Just the memory of what he had already unpacked that day brought another image to his mind – Mariel, bared to his gaze and his hands, moaning in pleasure as he used one of those dilettos on her. He stifled a moan, and swallowed hard. He should not allow himself to imagine such things, he could not! But his mind rebelled.

She had turned her attention back to the book, and her translation, and was turning pages, finding the first passage to ask him about. He wanted to lean towards her, to taste her neck, just below her ear, to taste all of her. This was, he suspected, going to be the hardest few hours of his life so far – in more ways than one.

“Ah, here is the first passage.” She pointed at a page. “Here – this is about ordinary intercourse – but what English word should I use to describe the man’s member, here?”

Aching. Rock hard. In need of relief.

No, no, no. he must focus on the translation.

Dash looked at the page where she had written her English translation, and read the passage through to the point where she had left a space to insert the missing word. He swallowed.

“Ahh… if we assume that the whole book is more scientific, one would use ‘penis’ but if we assume that it is more colloquial, more easily accessible as a manual for the common man, we would probably say ‘cock’.”

An odd thrill ran through him, at saying such words to a young woman who was an innocent, at least of the physical aspects of what they discussed. It was most odd – he had always sworn that he would not be corrupting innocents, yet here he was, imagining doing just that – because she was, in every other way, so very much not innocent at all.

She put pen to paper, and inserted the word in the correct spot.

“Excellent. Now, let me find the next difficult word.”

And so it was for the next two hours. His aching cock got no relief, for every time that he thought he had managed to concentrate simply on the mechanics of finding the right words, they would come to a new passage where the content was erotically stimulating enough to set his imagination running wild again, and his body responding to those thoughts. After two hours, he could take no more.

“Mariel, I appreciate your dedication… but shall we stop for now? I feel that some tea would be in order, and a break from this intensive… thinking.”

She looked up, and ran her tongue over those soft pink lips again. Desire ran through him, harder than ever. He had thought himself inured to erotica, after so many years collecting, but in Mariel’s presence, it was as if it was all new to him, again.

“Of course. I am so sorry – I become rather obsessed when doing something like this. And you likely have other things you should be doing as well. But I am grateful – now I have words for a number of places. And it will make the rest easier. But… will you be able to give me some time like this, every few days?”

Dash swallowed hard. What she suggested would be the most exquisite torture.

“Of course I can, Mariel. After all, you are translating this as a favour to me in the first place.”

He was mad. He had not ever thought himself one to enjoy pain, in a sexual context, but sitting beside Mariel, doing this, rather qualified as doing exactly that. He would endure – somehow.