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I couldn t meet his gaze, not even in the mirror. Lust was shimmering
across my skin. My nipples had tightened, the faint brush of their tips against
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my dress a torment with each breath taken. The skin of my inner thighs was
humid and growing slick from the pocket of moisture above. I wanted him, the
need inexplicably centered deep in my chest and not just in the triangle of
nipples and clit. What I didn t want was another dispassionate taking with my
own passions out of control. I wanted, in short, an out and he gave it to me.
 No. He ended the word with a warm press of his lips against my neck,
holding it for an instant before going on.  I think that lesson is beyond your
skill.
He pushed me forward at the waist, hard and fast so that my arms shot out
and there was a woomph of air as my chest hit the wood surface.  We will work,
instead, on a reluctant acceptance, I think.
He wrapped his left hand through my hair, his forearm running down my
spine and pinning me against the dresser. Bending to one side, he reached
down with his right hand and scooped the skirt of my dress and my chemise
up and over my hips, tucking them under his elbow to keep them in place.
He freed his cock, his pants brushing against the back of my thighs before
falling to the floor. And then he was in me. No courtship of cock and cunt just
hard and swift and full inside. I brought my arms close to my head, one
beneath my down-turned face so that I could bite into my flesh and disguise
the nature of my moan.
Daniel let go of my hair and grabbed my hips with both hands.  Hiding
works.
Oh, that cool, detached voice! I struggled against him and he drove deeper,
his fingertips digging into my sides and bottom. Already straining to
accommodate his length despite my wetness, I thought him fully in me. My
error butted against me at unplumbed depths. Where Christophe had been
thick, Daniel was deliciously long. I stifled another groan even as my hips shot
up to stroke him.
 Reluctance, remember, Amelie? There was no smirk to his voice. He
sounded, for all the world, like Monsieur Pichette correcting my singing pitch in
practice.
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I reached back, trying to claw at him. If I could not show him how
reluctance looked, I would at least let him know what it felt like.  You soulless
beast!
He caught my hands, pulled my arms straight back so that I was forced to
press my cheek against the wood while he used my arms to seat me more
firmly on his shaft.  Good, if you find you must move against your partner,
disguise it as anger.
 I am furious!
Daniel slowed, his grip on my wrists tightening as his hips began to move
in shallow circles, the knob of his cock head massaging deep inside my cunt,
reaching some untouched mass that had been waiting for his length and
patience.
I broke into sobs as my climax hit me, tears streaming down my cheeks at
this fresh defeat.
 You can always recover from a surrender, he said when I finished
contracting against him. His voice at last showed some small range of emotion,
but I felt hollowed by it. A pleased music teacher that was the equivalent of
what my defeat had produced.
 An unwilling surrender can be quite&  he paused, still inside me, and ran
a hand across the front of my thigh and down to my knee, gently forcing it to
bend so that he could now reach and remove my shoe. He took the second one
off before continuing his thought.  It can be quite enticing, Ver Amelie.
He stripped the rest of my clothing away before withdrawing from me and
leading me to the bed. Docile I was as I watched him pull the bedding back and
then let him guide me onto the mattress.
I looked up at him, saw his mask shift an infinitesimally small amount.
 But you& you did not find your finish.
 Nor will I, he said, another almost invisible shift in his expression.  It
would not do for you to become pregnant, Veron&  Stopping, he leaned back
and drew the covers up to my chin.  Well, it just would not do. The more we
can minimize the chance, the better.
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Ann Vremont
With that, he left me alone for the night, sleeping on the room s small divan
instead of in bed with me as he had done every night since my escape.
October 15, 1787
We have moved twice since coming to London. Daniel has pronounced me
sufficiently English and now calls me Emily. It is the same in meaning as
Amelie, is it not?
We are still brother and sister, or at least the family I lodge with believes us
to be so. Daniel lodges separately, more in the city s center. Closer, he says, to
this Lord Tolleson he has targeted. He visits me but a few times a week,
checking my progress, making sure that the Starling family is keeping me
properly demure.
Demure! I thought all of the Puritans had left England for America! I wish
they had. It is true that the Starlings, though plainly clothed, do not wear the
dress of that sect. And with eleven children in the household, I am not tasked
with more than keeping my own quarters tidy. But the severity of their minds! I
would have found more enjoyment with those gray sisters of the convent
knowing some of their tastes.
So, yes, he finds a proper Emily with each visit. Nor do I seek to rile or goad
him on his visits. The strain of this Tolleson is all too evident despite our
passing most of our visits with one of the family members present in the room.
And yet, the strain should not be evident. I know Daniel well enough, I
think, to be certain he could take ten lashes across his back and not drop his
smile for one second. Does he seek to manipulate me? To make me jealous?
Yes, jealous, for I fear his relationship with Tolleson is sexual in nature.
Perhaps he seeks to warn me of how dangerous this ruse may become. Could
he not just tell me in those precious moments when we are alone in the garden
or strolling through town?
October 18, 1787
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A plain little gown arrived today, fit for a lawn party if one is not ashamed
to attend as a pauper. It did not come without warning. Daniel, having visited
yesterday, told me I was to attend such a party at Tolleson s estate and that a
woman, a chaperone provided by Tolleson, would escort me.
For, outside this house, we no longer are to play at being brother and
sister. I am to be his intended the object of his heart just as he is the object of
Tolleson s darker passions. I am, then, to be Tolleson s rival and Daniel has
warned me that the man will do all he can to ruin me.
Hah! If he only knew, this little English lord, that he is too late.
October 21, 1787
I write by candlelight, glad, for once, to be safely back in my dull lodgings
following two days of intrigue. The woman, an elderly Lady Hardbraith, arrived
by carriage late yesterday morning. I knew her nature immediately, having
used such accommodation chaperones myself. These false scions of propriety
rent out their cloaks of respectability to bring lecherous old men some fresh
flower with no one the wiser, though few are actually titled as Lady Hardbraith
is.
When I arrived, lunch and lawn games in what passes for a garden in
England were already under way. Hardbreath so I took to calling her because
she is at least seventy if not a full five score and rattles like a tea kettle at low
steam sternly bid me stay by her side and I played at being the ever-obedient
Emily. Daniel, always at a distance, would glance my way, a look of puppy love [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]