Page 11 of Dallying with the Diamond

Honoria had not planned for this. Her mind froze for a few moments whilst he nibbled and kissed his way across her collarbone and decolletage to the spot on her opposite shoulder bared by the neckline of her gown. Flashes of images crossed her memory, images provoked by her reading of his journal pages. Images and words to which she’d pleasured herself the first night she’d read the detailed accounts of his erotic adventures. He ran his tongue across the tops of her breasts.

She gasped.

He raised his head at once. “Am I frightening you? I won’t do anything without your permission. If you—”

“The Countess of L in the folly on her father’s estate. A night like tonight. You touched her and…”

“I remember.” His voice was thick and rich. He spoke and Honoria was suddenly breathless. “An excellent choice.” He turned her slowly in his arms so that her back was pressed against his chest. He spoke quietly in her ear. “I’m going to remove my gloves. Yes?”

“Y-yes.”

In seconds his gloves were pressed into her hands. “I’m going to raise your skirts, yes?”

“Yes,” she nearly moaned. His hands caressed her thighs and then clasped her skirts, raising them slowly up her legs. He bared her knees and still he continued to pull the elegant fabric higher and higher until the cool night air caressed her thighs, her hips, and heightened her awareness of the dampness pooling between her legs.

“Hold tight,” he growled as he tucked the fabric into the fisted hands. He put his arms around her and ran his hands up and down her thighs. The callouses and ridges of his fingers and palms aroused her and set her naked skin on fire. “No drawers. Good.” He took a deep breath. “Your cunny is wet, my lady. Have you been thinking of this all day?”

“Yes, you arrogantarse.” She pressed her bottom against him. The thick ridge of his cock told her he was as aroused as she was. “My name is Honoria. Oh!”

He’d angled her body against his so that she was nearly lying atop him as his hands worked her thighs slightly apart. He sifted his fingers through the curls at the apex of her thighs and ran a thick forefinger between her folds, teasing the entrance to her body.

“Good?” he asked as he nipped her earlobe.

“Yes.”

“More?”

“Yes, damn you.” She tried to arch her body into his hand.

With one arm beneath her breasts to hold her in place, he began a slow caressing rhythm over her cunny, giving the sweet spot at the top of her cunny only a glancing sweep every third or fourth stroke. She wiggled and stretched to keep his hand where she needed. He laughed softly.

“Shhh. Patience, Honoria. I want to make certain you receive a fulfilling…experience.” On the last word he inserted one finger into her quim on the next stroke. Honoria cried out. He went back to the slow stroking rhythm, this time touching the spot she needed more often. She sank back against him and allowed the sensuous sensations to overtake her. The liquid sounds of his fingers stroking her, the musk of her cunny as the moisture increased and played against the roughness of his fingertips.

He increased his pace. His free hand moved from beneath her breasts to the neckline of her gown. He lifted her breast free and rolled the nipple between his fingertips. Honoria’s body jerked as a spasm of pleasure swept over her. He cupped her breast so the now hardened nipple was pinched between two fingers whilst he gently squeezed her breast in time with the rhythmic strokes of his other hand. She began to buck and thrust in time with that rhythm. Every time his finger slipped inside her she gave a little cry. She burned with the need for more, for the riotous conclusion just out of reach.

Her soft gasps came faster and faster, higher and higher. Against her ear he panted in time with her. He growled and urged her onward with the sort of words she’d only read in her collection.

“That’s it, Honoria, faster. Harder, love, harder. Come for me. You’re so wet, so ready. Your scent is driving me mad. Tell me. Tell me what you want. Your quim feels so good.” The sound of his hand rubbing against her, the rasp of his breath in her ear. He squeezed and caressed her breast. Suddenly he angled his body so he could slip two fingers inside of her each time he brushed the now engorged spot at the top of her wet cunny.

Her body began to quake and shudder. She collapsed against him as she rode his fingers through the waves of pleasure that washed over her like a storm.

“Oh. Oh. Oh. Yes!” she cried as she continued to writhe against him. He squeezed her breast and held it tightly in his hand as the shudders continue to roll through her. Every time she thought there was an end to her pleasure, he pinched the seat of her pleasure and stroked his fingers inside her. Finally, he allowed her to go limp in his arms. He tucked her breast back into her gown and worked her clasped hands loose enough to allow her skirts to fall back into place. His gloves fell to her feet.

He retrieved his gloves and tugged them back on as he rose to his full height. He tucked several strands of her hair back into place. Oddly enough, next to everything he had just done to her, this act was the one that made her suddenly shy and aware of him in a deeper way than she believed possible.

“I didn’t hurt you?” he asked.

“Are you mad? That was…”

He raised an eyebrow and gave her a half grin.

“So, Leo.” She was determined to maintain the upper hand in this liaison no matter how skilled a lover he was. “Do we have a contract? Pages from your journal for each of your…trysts you re-create with me?” Her legs had the consistency of water. Her body still quaked with little darts of erotic pleasure. He had more than delivered in this first encounter. She found herself hungry for more already, though she’d die before she let him know so.

He stared at her for a moment. He laughed briefly then stuck out his hand. “We have a contract, Honoria. I have no idea what you are about or why you are doing this, but I am at your service until I have all of the pages of my journal back in my possession.”

She shook his hand. The sound of voices on the terrace had them both adjusting their clothing. They peered outside and saw a number of couples strolling along the terrace railing.

“I’ll go out through the back of the gardens. If you see Carrington-Bowles tell him I will wait for him in the mews.” He gazed at her in silence before he finally said, “Send a note to Albany for me when you decide what you would like to sample next.” He tilted her head up and kissed her soundly. “You, Honoria, are quite the enigma.”