Page 59 of A Gentleman's Wager
Vaughan rested his head on his chest and closed his eyes. “Thank you,” he whispered into Lucerne’s skin. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited to do that.”
Longer, but not much longer than he’d desired it.
“I think you’ve given me some idea. I didn’t know it would feel so intense.”
He wasn’t sure, but he thought he heard Vaughan whisper, “Yes, you did. It’s why you simultaneously craved and feared it, just like every other aspect of us.”
-37-
Bella
Bella spent a fitful night visited by visions of Lucerne and Vaughan crushing her between them, sucking on her nipples, kneading the fullness of her bottom, and repeatedly taking turns within her cunny. She woke agitated, arousal nipping at her senses. Hence, she snapped unnecessarily at her maid, scowled at Louisa over breakfast, and took the top off her boiled egg with such force it flew to the other end of the table designed for four and twenty. Luckily, no one other than Louisa was present to witness it.
She had to escape this house and find some means of burning off her frustrations since it was clear that Lucerne would not be tempted. Riding. That was the answer. Her mare was in the stables, there was no reason why she couldn’t gallop across the high moors as she had always done. Woe betides anyone who tried to stop her.
She found her groom in the end stall, grunting, with his back to her. “Mark.” Bella tapped him on the shoulder, whereupon he gave a guilty start.
“Miss.”
“I wish to ride.”
“Today? Now? But it’s miserable.” It was true, she had ventured out during a brief respite in the rain.
“What are you doing? Turnabout and face me.”
Mark made a noise in the back of his throat, then complied. His reluctance was immediately apparent. His thick woollen breeches were partially unbuttoned revealing a sliver of sun-browned skin, and the robust swell of his cock. He grinned shamefacedly but made no attempt to cover up. Instead, his stoicism seemed almost a challenge.
She’d heard a host of rumours about him. All the maids spoke of his prowess, and if Lucerne wouldn’t satisfy, then why shouldn’t she look elsewhere for relief. ‘Twas not as if she’d never partaken of such joys before. Discreetly, of course. It was only what any gentlemen would do.
“Maybe you’ve a fancy for a different sort of ride?” Mark remarked, one side of his face tilting upwards into a cheeky smirk.
“Maybe I have.”
Bella slipped a gloved hand through one of his galluses and tugged him towards the ladder to the hayloft. The way she saw it, what was fine for her brother was acceptable for her also. He was mostly discreet. She was more discreet. If she could not have Lucerne, then she would exhaust herself in the manner gentlemen did when their blood was up, and no one need be any the wiser for it. Given the weather, who else was likely to venture out here?
The upper storey, with its low ceiling smelled strongly of hay and horses. It reminded Bella of past summer afternoons spent rolling in the long grass before Lucerne had come to Lauwine. Days when no one had worried about her whereabouts, or her marriage prospects.
Mark followed her through the hatch and strode over the hay-covered boards to sit down on a bail. “It’ll be a change to have a fine lady astride my prick. It’ll cost you though.”
“And you too if you breathe a word of it.”
“Why the devil would I do that? I know how my bread’s buttered.” He placed one of his big hands behind her neck and pulled her closer, then kissed her roughly so that his stubble grazed her chin. A smile played at his lips as she ran her hands over his broad shoulders and explored the muscles beneath his shirt. Lucerne and Vaughan, even Frederick Wakefield were in a different league to Mark, but when it came down to raw appeal, his earthiness had its own charm. Mark didn’t need a starched collar, or any other refinement to persuade her of his appeal. That, and there was much to be said for the simplicity of an arrangement involving an exchange of coins. It severed emotions from the equation.
“How much?”
“A guinea.”
“A whole guinea,” she spluttered. “Who are you, Casanova?”
“The fellow willing to give you the tupping of your life. What’s the matter, are the fine gentlemen drunk or spent?” He guided her hand through the vent of his breeches. “Or are they simply not up to the task?”
Bella didn’t reply, she was under no obligation to satisfy his curiosity.
“Just fancied a tumble in the hay, eh? With a man who doesn’t need help to put on his own drawers.”
“This is what I fancy,” she said clasping her fist around his pole. “Stop talking and show me what you can do with it.”
Mark gave an affirmative growl. The skin around his eyes crinkled as his lewd grin grew. He pulled her closer still, then flopped backwards taking her with him into the mound of hay, so that she lay astride him. He nibbled her earlobe but avoided her lips. It was apparent that he didn’t mean for there to be any preamble. Within seconds of them landing, he was tugging up her skirts to seek out the split of her quim.
