Promising Virgin Read online

Page 2


  Now that he faced the truth head on, he also knew beyond any doubt that the reason Chez Claudine no longer appealed to him was that none of the women there was Sapphira. Oh, they were well skilled, those ladies of the night, but he wanted Sapphira in his bed, Sapphira’s mouth on his aching cock, Sapphira’s hot little body in his arms. How could he have been so blind? He’d never really considered marrying Lady Mary. Why, even in his thoughts she was always Lady Mary whereas Miss Sapphira was just Sapphira. His Sapphira.

  Well, hell. How the fuck was he going to convince her he genuinely wanted her and cared for her? And how was he going to get past Sir Simeon Arnott who would probably guard her from him like a rabid dog?

  Chapter Two

  Simeon had problems of his own. Five minutes in the company of Miss Anne Smith and he’d known instantly she was the only woman for him. At least he had a title, even if it was the very lowest hereditary title in the British peerage. But Anne’s mama was the daughter of a duke. And he was comfortably situated financially with enough to buy his wife the elegancies of life, despite being the eldest of seven children. But Anne’s brother was as rich, if not richer, than Golden Ball himself and her portion was sure to be enormous. Kingsdene was a large and comfortable estate, and his house in Town was in one of the best squares. But Anne’s family home was a Tudor mansion, and as well as a townhouse, her brother had a smaller estate in the best hunt country just out of Melton Mowbray, and several other properties as well.

  In short, all Simeon’s assets were diminished in the light of her family’s wealth and breeding, and he was handicapped by an elderly grandmamma and a houseful of young siblings. No loving brother or papa would consider him an ideal match.

  But I can’t wait to claim her, to put her ring on my finger, to take her into my bed, to love her so thoroughly she loves me too.

  Simeon paced up and down his book room, trying to decide what to do, how to win the hand of his fair lady. “Get over heavy ground as fast as you can”, went the old hunting adage. So, ask her brother for her hand, speak as eloquently as possible, then kiss her until she agreed. It wasn’t much of a plan but it was the best he could do.

  ****

  He spent a long time getting dressed the next morning, ruining eight cravats before he was happy with his neckcloth tied in a Waterfall. Then, taking up his best cane, he walked the short distance to the Smith’s townhouse where John lived with his new bride, the former Theodora Ridley, his mama, and his sister Anne. Ah Anne, such beautiful deep brown eyes, soft brown hair, and a perfect figure. An intelligent woman, one could converse all day with her and never grow bored.

  Simeon was almost at their door when he wondered if he should have had his man of affairs go over the accounts so he could give John an accurate accounting of his wealth, then decided it was better for the two men of business to deal with such things.

  The butler opened the door to him, welcoming him with a solemn, “Sir Simeon,” before taking him into a small withdrawing room, and holding up a cut-crystal decanter. “Sherry wine, Sir Simeon? Or negus, perhaps?”

  Simeon shuddered. “Neither, thank you.”

  “I will tell Mr. Smith you’re here.”

  Less than five minutes later John walked into the room. “Simeon, how are you?”

  “Good, good.” Simeon cleared his throat and mentally repeating his mantra, “Get over heavy ground as fast as you can”, he said, “I’m here to offer for Miss Anne. I love her and want to marry her. I’m not a poor man and can promise you I’m no fortune hunter. Although I don’t have your kind of financial security of course. I—” he stopped and looked John in the eyes. “I love her. I’ll never hurt her. I promise you I’ll cherish her and protect her.”

  “Simeon, you’re exactly the type of man I would choose as a brother by law. But Anne is an independent woman and has requested I reject several suitors. It will be her decision, you understand?”

  Simeon gulped but nodded. He’d said exactly the same thing to his two sisters. And the list of men Sapphira had rejected was getting longer by the day. Including a belted earl no less.

  “I understand,” he replied.

  “Let me go and speak to her,” said John.

  Simeon couldn’t sit still. He paced the small withdrawing room, checked his neckcloth in the mirror over the mantel, then paced some more. Every minute that passed seemed like an hour. His heart was pounding like a drum and he could feel sweat breaking out on his brow and rolling down his spine. He forced himself to stand still and take deep breaths. Looking red-faced and with a wilted neckcloth was not the picture he wished to present to Miss Anne. The woman he desperately hoped would soon be Lady Arnott.

  He gave a faint smile. Just as well Grandmama had insisted on keeping her courtesy title of Dowager Lady Arnott all these years. It would actually be useful once there was a Lady Arnott again.

  Then there Anne was, standing in the doorway, looking unutterably exquisite in palest lemon, with a lemon riband threaded through her curls, her beautiful bosoms just showing above the creamy lace of her fichu.

  His unruly cock grew and stretched, wanting to reach out to Anne. Mentally Simeon cursed the fashion for tight breeches and kept his eyes on Anne’s face instead of her breasts. He took several paces toward her then stopped, unsure whether to continue and come closer. She was smiling so he did.

  Dropping to one knee at her feet, he took her hand and pressed a passionate kiss to her wrist, then her palm. “Dearest Miss Anne, would you make me the happiest man on earth by agreeing to marry me. I love you quite desperately and can’t imagine life without you by my side.”

  He stood again, taking her other hand as well and kissing it, waiting for her to answer. She still had a smile on her face, but why hadn’t she answered him? Surely she wasn’t going to crush him with a refusal?

  When she still didn’t speak he gently tilted her head back and pressed light kisses to her forehead and cheeks. He really, really wanted to kiss those pink, rosebud lips, but was terrified that might frighten her.

  After what seemed like hours, she finally said, very softly, “Yes, Sir Simeon, I will marry you.”

  “Thank God,” he murmured, pulling her into his arms and pressing his lips to hers.

  To his great delight, she snuggled closer to him, responding to his kiss. He deepened the kiss, running his tongue along the seam of her mouth and pulling her body against his. She felt so soft and warm in his arms, so responsive to his kisses. She was everything he’d ever dreamed of and more.

  A loud clatter outside the open door pulled his brains out of his aching cock and back into his head. Ah yes, everything else would have to wait until after they were married. The bans would have to be read for three Sundays.

  “Would you be agreeable to a wedding in the chapel at Kingsdene?” he asked.

  “I’d like that. It’d be much more special for us than a big society wedding,” she replied.

  John, Theodora, and his mama had entered the room with the butler, who was pouring champagne. “A toast to the bride and groom,” announced John.

  ****

  Anne was sitting up in bed waiting for him, a demure white cotton nightdress buttoned up almost to her chin, the long sleeves tied at the wrist. The blanket was also pulled up high over her bosoms so he could see even less of her than if she were wearing a ball gown.

  She’d smiled at him so lovingly, said her vows in a calm, steady voice, surely she wasn’t unwilling. Simeon’s heart almost failed him at the thought of not possessing his beautiful bride this night. Waiting three weeks had almost killed him. He didn’t think he could last another day. His cock had pained him day and night. Even his own hand no longer relieved it for more than a few minutes at a time. It wanted Anne. He wanted Anne. Oh how he wanted her. But she had to want him in return. “Until death do us part,” he’d said in the chapel that morning. He meant to keep that promise, so he’d better woo her out of that all-encompassing nightdress and into his arms.

  He
sat on the side of the bed, careful not to crowd her, but close enough to take her hand and hold it in his. He stroked the palm with a finger as he looked into her eyes and said, “I love you, Anne, and I want to love you now as a man does a woman.”

  She held his gaze and nodded slightly.

  He gulped. He didn’t need her permission—he was her husband!—but he wanted her blessing on the union. Wanted to please her, to teach her to love him too. So he tried again. “Did your mama tell you what happens next?”

  She smiled. “Poor Mama. She was quite dreadfully embarrassed. She said that when the stallions are brought to the mares, the mares neigh, raise their tail, and welcome the stallion. She said in time a woman comes to welcome her husband too.”

  He laughed. He couldn’t help himself. Of all the things he’d imagined the older Mrs. Smith saying, that was not one of them. “Oh, my love, I hope you welcome me too. But I assure you neighing is not necessary.”

  He saw her shoulders relax and she gave a throaty little laugh that had his cock pressing hard against the fall front of his breeches.

  All he could think about was undressing her, worshipping her body, and burying his poor long-suffering dick in her to the hilt. But she was a delicately reared lady whose Mama had apparently not given her many hints about what came next. So he had to be careful not to frighten or offend her. Which meant taking this much slower than he’d planned. Well, kissing would be a good starting place.

  Simeon moved closer to her on the bed, gently cupped her chin in the palm of his hand, and pressed feather-light kisses to her forehead, cheeks, and jaw line. Her big brown eyes gazed trustingly into his, and he saw no fear or distaste there, so kissed her lips.

  She gave a happy little sigh which encouraged him, so he shuffled a little closer still and held her shoulders as he kissed her more deeply, letting his tongue lick the seam of her closed lips.

  Her body melted into his. Rejoicing, he pushed the blanket off her and pulled her onto his lap, then kissed her eyelids, throat, and earlobes, before once again kissing her mouth. This time he teased her lips until they parted, and slid his tongue inside, exploring the roof of her mouth, inside her cheeks, and around behind her teeth.

  Anne tentatively placed a hand on his shoulder and he moved one arm around her waist, pulling her body tightly against his until her soft breasts were snug against his chest. Her nipples were hard little points easily discernable even through the soft cotton of her nightdress and his shirt.

  His cock was begging for a more active role in the proceedings, so he held her ass tight against his body, knowing she could feel him.

  As they broke apart from the kiss, he saw a wicked little gleam in her eyes, but still no fear or hesitation, which emboldened him to say, “May I remove the nightdress, my love. It’s devilishly in the way. I want to touch your skin.”

  She nodded then said, “Are you—Your shirt—”

  “You want me to take it off too?”

  She nodded, her eyes huge dark pools but still with a sparkle to them.

  “With great pleasure, my love.” He lifted her off his knee and moved her to the side, then jumped off the bed, kicked his slippers off, unlaced his shirt, and pulled it over his head.

  Then, much more slowly and carefully, he unbuttoned her sleeves, then the front of her nightgown. There must have been two score of tiny buttons, but he patiently worked his way down the row, determining to buy her some new nightgowns that simply tied with a riband. Soon. Possibly tomorrow.

  Finally he accomplished the task and lifted her gown over her head, and could gaze at her body. She was beautiful. Her skin was as creamy as fresh milk, her breasts would fill his hands perfectly. Her nipples were a deep pink. The hair around her womanhood was a shade darker than that on her head. Her legs were long and straight, and her feet narrow with the prettiest little toes. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he said fervently, pulling her into his arms to kiss her some more.

  She felt so good against his skin. Soft against his hardness. Warm and giving. He kissed her mouth, then a line down her neck to the hollow where her pulse was beating fast. From there he licked his way across to first one bosom, then the other, giving each nipple a quick suck before returning to bury his head in the warmth between both breasts. Heaven!

  He became aware of her hands gently stroking his back and lust surged through him so hard he had to fight not to rip his breeches off and sink his cock into her. He wanted her so much but had to force himself to keep moving slowly and gently. “It’s her first time. It’s her first time,” he chanted mentally until he got his cock under control again.

  Picking her up in his arms, he laid her back on the bed, then lay beside her, gently kissing and licking her skin—her face, her breasts, her ribs. While his mouth played with her breasts, he let one hand move lower to finger her nether lips, then slide over her nubbin. Matching his hand movements to his mouth, he circled both nubbin and nipple, stroking and teasing. Finally he slid a finger inside her. She was hot and wet, more ready for him than he’d even hoped.

  He kissed her lips again gently, then stood and removed his breeches. As his poor neglected dick sprang free, he watched her face to see if she was frightened, but she just licked her lips—an act that made him long for the day when she would place those beautiful lips around his cock and suck him deep into her mouth.

  He rejoined her on the bed and stroked her ribs and breasts again before saying, “I’m sorry, my love, this first time might hurt you, but I can promise you I’ll do my utmost to make it as good for you as I can.”

  “I understand,” she whispered.

  He kneeled over her delightful body, then took her lips with his again as he placed his dick at the entry to her woman’s channel. Then, while kissing her deeply, he thrust inside her firmly. He felt the barrier break, then her shudder a little, and held still for her to get used to the size of him, never stopping his kiss.

  Her cunny was so very tight around him, it gripped his cock more tightly than a fist ever could, and was hot and wet as well. Being inside her was pure joy.

  By the time he had to break the kiss so they could breathe, her body had relaxed against his, so he stroked into her in a slow and steady pace, one hand on her hip to steady her, the other playing with a breast, teasing her nipple and palming the generous mound.

  When she began to move her hips with his, he sped up, stroking faster, before raising her ass a little to penetrate more deeply.

  Sweat was pouring off him now from the strain of maintaining control when all he wanted to do was pound into her until he reached his peak. Over and over he reminded himself this was about her, about her receiving pleasure.

  Leaving one hand under her ass, he leaned up off her body a little so his other hand could finger her nubbin. It was hot and engorged, and she was now making little gasps as he thrust into her. He swiveled his hips, trying to give her maximum pleasure as he tweaked her nubbin. Suddenly her eyes opened wide and he felt her cunny begin to ripple around him. She was so very, very tight and already gripped him so firmly, for a moment he wondered if his cock would actually break under the strain.

  Finally he could pound into her with the force he needed. He lifted her legs up onto his shoulders to let him sink another fraction of an inch deeper into her, pulled almost the whole way out until only his knob was still inside her wonderful heat, then slammed into her, once, twice, thrice, and his seed exploded from him as her cunny grabbed his dick and milked him over and over again.

  He gentled his movements again, bringing her down from her pleasure, gazing into her face glowing from her release. He kissed her lips softly, then rolled them both onto their sides, leaving his cock buried inside her. He knew he’d have to let her clean herself up, but he couldn’t bear to part from her just yet.

  He held her tightly, both arms wrapped around her, their sweaty bodies glued together from pelvis to neck.

  ****

  Anne felt very safe wrapped
so tightly in his arms. Her new husband was breathing quite heavily, so she thought he’d fallen asleep. But his manhood was still inside her, and although she felt a little tender there, she was happy for him to stay with her. So many husbands disappeared the moment the act was over, and it was wonderful to have him sleeping in her bed. She loved him so much. She knew people of their station didn’t marry for love. Marriage was a union of estates and businesses, not of people, but Barnabas and Georgina, and John and Theodora loved each other, and Simeon said he loved her. She wanted to believe theirs was a love match.

  The wedding in the chapel at Kingsdene had gone very smoothly. In fact, it had taken barely a half hour, although the luncheon afterward had been a time of celebration, toasts and much laughter. His family and hers were staying here at Kingsdene for a week and in a few days they would hold a ball for all the county to come and wish them happy. She and Mama with Georgina, the Dowager, and Theodora had been planning the ball for weeks now, and she was looking forward to her first time as hostess in Simeon’s home.

  She’d been a little apprehensive about her wedding night. Of course, ladies were not supposed to know anything about such things, and Mama had been no help at all, too embarrassed to give her any useful information. Fortunately Theodora had been more forthcoming and used words Anne had never heard before to answer Anne’s questions. She’d noticed the bulge in Simeon’s breeches when he watched her sometimes, but she’d never realized how big his manhood was until she’d seen it. Still, as Theodora had promised, it fit inside her extremely well and did give her great pleasure. And surely the fact that his manhood grew so large meant he loved her at least a little. When he proposed he’d said he loved her. But mayhap men always said that. It was so difficult to decide what words were dictated by society’s rules and what was genuinely meant.