Romance: In Love With A Beast (Paranormal BBW Panther Shifter Romance) (Shapeshifter Mystery Alpha Werebear Romance Short Stories) (4 page)

Joining her in the bed, the King pressed the length of his body against hers and Beth gasped with a mixture of surprise and pleasure as she felt the hard proof of his arousal press against her thigh. They continued to kiss and the King slowly removed the blue satin ribbon that he had given Beth from her hair. His kisses moved lower and he took one of Beth’s erect nipples in his mouth, gently sucking it and flicking his tongue across is. Beth was by now breathing deeply, feeling herself getting wet with arousal. The King took her hand and guided it to his groin, closing his eyes and sighing with pleasure as she took him in her hand. With his hand still guiding hers, the King began to move it up and down so that Beth was pleasuring him, and his breath began to come in short sharp bursts. Positioning himself over Beth, he slowly and gently entered her, watching her face for any sign of pain. At first the sensation was uncomfortable, but as he began to slowly move back and forth, Beth began to feel a sense of overwhelming pleasure. His thrusting began to speed up and both of them, man and woman, servant and King, experienced and inexperienced, were moaning into each other’s necks. Beth’s fingernails were digging into his back in her enjoyment, and the King’s hands were clinging to Beth’s hips, drawing her closer towards him. He then lifted her legs so that they were over his shoulders, enabling him to get deeper inside her. Beth felt her pleasure increase and she was now entirely given over to the ecstasy of the moment. Suddenly the King grasped her face between his hands and pressed his lips against hers; he gave one final thrust before shuddering and omitting one long low moan. Seconds later Beth herself felt her arousal reach a climax and she cried out and grasped the King to her. She lay, satisfied and exhausted, her body trembling with the after-effects of such pleasure.

The King was lying beside her with his eyes closed, his large tanned hand resting on her pale stomach, a peaceful smile playing on his lips. Beth felt as if she would never be able to move again, so overwhelmed she was by the intensity of their coupling. A thin sheen of sweat covered them both, and their hair was wild and tangled on the pillows. As her breath began to steady, Beth took in the King’s physique as he lay there beside her. She had never seen a naked man before, and her eyes were drawn to the bulging muscles on his arms and legs. She knew he was an avid sportsman, and had the reputation of having admirable calves, but she hadn’t expected him to be quite this muscular underneath his expensive clothes. Beth moved over so that her head was resting on the King’s firm chest, and his hand idly stroked her back. They lay there for a while, exhausted and satisfied, lost in their own thoughts. Eventually the King extricated himself from Beth’s embrace, got up, and began dressing again.

“Elizabeth, you do not disappoint. I can only thank you from the bottom of my heart for coming to me this evening; I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did. I shall see you again very soon.” Then, with a final appreciative look at Beth’s body reclining in his bed, the King of England strode away. Beth smiled to herself at his formality, and then flopped back against the pillows that still smelt of the King.

Chapter 8

The following day, Beth and Emma were glad to be released early from their duties in the kitchen, as it enabled them to spend time getting ready for the dance. They got a tin bathtub, filled it with jugs of warm water, and sprinkled in some rose petals and sprigs of lavender from the gardens. As Beth luxuriated in the warm water, Emma rubbed soap in her friend’s hair, and they talked happily about the evening to come. After they had both bathed the girls rubbed oil into their skin, dressed in their best gowns, and did each other’s hair. Once these preparations were complete they looked at themselves side by side in the mirror, and were pleased with their handiwork. The blue satin ribbon that the King had given to Beth was fastened in her hair, and her skin was flushed from the warmth of the bath and the excitement of the night ahead.

“Is that a love bite?” Emma asked, peering closely at Beth’s neck.

“Of course not, who could possibly have given me a love bite, silly?” Beth retorted quickly, still not ready to confide in her friend. Before she had to say anything else though, there was a rap at their door. John stood there looking dapper, also in his best clothes, and with a sprig of blossom in each hand. With a grin he unceremoniously thrust his gifts forwards, one for each of the girls. Thanking him, they attached the dainty flowers to each other’s hair, and the three of them set off for their dance.

The evening was a great success. Emma kindly stayed with Beth at the beginning, introducing her to other servants, but after a while she disappeared off to find her stable boy. When John and Beth were left alone, he held out his hand with a cheeky look in his eye, and asked Beth to dance. The dancing was fun and tiring. Beth had never been to a dance before, but John was very patient when she kept treading on his toes. After a few songs, they went to the bar to order a drink, needing a rest from all of the exercise. Once they had their drinks, John led Beth outside, and they sat down on a bench outside the tavern.

“Are you enjoying yourself, Beth?” He asked after a long swig from his tankard.

“Yes, it is fantastic. Thank you so much for inviting me,” Beth replied, smiling at him shyly.

“I am so glad you are having a good time. I am sure that my toes will recover eventually from their terrible mistreatment!” John said, and the two laughed together, enjoying the warm evening air and the feeling of intoxication caused by the drink and the excitement. John gradually stopped laughing, and became suddenly serious. He drew a deep breath and then began speaking quickly: “Beth, my father has been bothering me for a long time about my need for a wife. I know we have only known each other for a short while, but I wanted to ask… that is, I had a suggestion that… would you do me the pleasure of…” Beth’s eyes had widened as she grasped what he was about to suggest. A sense of panic gripped her; John was so lovely and he was certainly handsome, but she was no virgin anymore and having tasted the ecstasy of her night with the King she wasn’t sure if she felt the same attraction towards John. He was less manly somehow, more timid and youthful, and she wasn’t sure she could feel for him the lust she had felt the previous night. It was all so confusing and happening too quickly. She stumbled to her feet, muttered her excuses, and disappeared back inside to find Emma, leaving a heartbroken John staring blindly into the night.

Chapter 9:
Six Months Later

“His Royal Highness has a lot to answer for,” Emma grumbled as she held back Beth’s hair as she once again retched into a bucket. “A fine mess he’s got you into. I am of a mind to go and speak to him myself if you will not go and plead for his support. He cannot simply choose a servant girl, have his way with her, and then cast her aside if she finds herself with child. He might give you money if you explain that the baby cannot be anyone’s other than his, you must speak to him.” Beth felt too ill and despondent to even consider going to the King. She couldn’t believe that this had happened. She had now shared the King’s bed for six months. She had celebrated with him at the birth of his son and heir, and grieved with him when the child died a mere 52 days later. Their romance had become ever more passionate and lustful since then, and Beth suspected that Henry despaired of ever fathering a child by Catherine. Now though, Beth found herself with child, and she couldn’t help but hate herself for conceived, however unwittingly, a child when Catherine herself was struggling to produce any living offspring. Moreover, Beth knew her life was now ruined: she could never marry having proved herself an adulterous, sinful woman. Moaning in despair, Beth leant over the bucket and vomited once more.

Beth felt too weak to look up when she heard footsteps and shuffling behind her. Within moments though, she felt a reassuring hand on her back and could smell the leather that always accompanied John when he entered a room. She smiled gratefully at her friend’s support, although she did register a slight wariness that a man had entered a woman’s bedchamber. Beth began to feel better as John stroked her back in circular motions, and finally felt able to remove her head from the bucket and rest against John’s shoulder. She surprised herself by feeling extremely glad that John had come. She realized in a flash that the King might stir her loins, but it was John’s unassuming, reliable nature that stirred her heart. Now Beth felt more confused than ever, and a tear escaped her eye as she reminded herself that she was no longer entitled to be in love, since she was now damaged goods. Unaware of Beth’s thoughts, John launched into the monologue he had come to say: “Beth, Emma has explained the situation to me. I know you are with child, and I know the child is the King’s. I must say you have been very foolish, but it is not my place to judge, and I just hope his Highness treated you well. I know you must be scared, Beth, but there is absolutely no way I am going to allow your name to be muddied or scandal to fall on your back. This may perhaps seem as if I am taking advantage of your desperate state, but please believe me when I say that is not my intention. I think you know I have loved you, Beth, since the day I met you. These last months I have been in anguish knowing that you did not see me in the same light. Of course, the decision is entirely yours, but I have a suggestion that might solve your problem. Elizabeth Scott, would you do me the honor of accepting my hand in marriage? Nobody else needs know that you were already pregnant; we can allow them to think that we had a very fruitful wedding night. I will treat you well Beth, I will consider the child my own, and you do not even need to submit to your wifely duties if you do not want. I just want you to be happy.” As abruptly as John had started speaking, he stopped. The room was silent for a moment, and then with her heart racing Beth leant forwards and pressed her lips against his; her hand clasped the back of his head and her fingers stroked his soft hair.

“John, you have made me the happiest girl in England,” Beth murmured into his lips, and her tears began to flow freely.

The Scoundrel

An Erotic Regency Romance

By Passion Books

Chapter 1

Diana looked up at the burgundy canopy over her four poster bed while Sir Reginald continued to plough away. She looked down on his bald head illuminated by the flickering candles that also sent dancing shadows like demented phantoms across the flock wallpaper. His wig on its stand crouched like a white rabbit.

Four years of marriage to this man had not endeared him to her. How she longed for a man who at least knew how to make love and one taller than her five feet four inches would be good too. At least he was wealthy, connected and not tight with his money. The marriage of convenience meant her parents were no longer financially embarrassed.

She imagined he was a dashing Captain from Wellington’s army who had cornered her in a hay field and took her virtue while the sun beat down. It was her only way of dealing with this Thursday night conjugal obligation. Before she went to bed on Thursdays, Diana never forgot to take the potion the gypsy Carlotta gave her to make sure she bore her husband no children. The thought of giving birth to something that would have his traits sickened her. At least it was only Thursdays. And he only did it to her because he needed a son. He had other outlets for his vile peccadillos rather than his unresponsive genteel wife.

He grunted and rolled off. She could breathe properly now that his fat belly wasn’t pinning her to the mattress. The mantelpiece clock; clear enough in the dim light, confirmed the usual.
Two and a half minutes.

Her hand slid under the linen sheet and pulled down her silk nightdress. She turned on her side, away from Sir Reginald, smoothed back her blond hair wrapped in cotton ties and let a little tear escape from her blue eyes. As she teetered on the edge of sleep, thinking about her fantasy captain, she resolved to find him or a substitute.

***

Sir Reginald sat munching his devilled kidneys with grease escaping from the side of his mouth. Diana nibbled at her toast trying to avert his eyes from his disgusting table manners.

She looked into a large mirror over a black and ebony sideboard that bore scenes of Japanese eroticism. Her blue dress with its high daytime collar set off her complexion in the morning light that shone through the French windows of the wood panelled dining room. Diana knew she looked good. The mirror confirmed it. She felt so sad that nobody appreciated her beauty. To Sir Reginald, she knew she was just a wife-to-be, the bearer of his children and someone to run the house while he philandered his life away.

He was already dressed for his trip to town in his navy blue frock coat and white silk cravat. His expensive clothes could not overcome the image of being a squat pig with eyes to match.

“So what are your plans for the weekend Diana?”

“I thought I would go over to Tunbridge Wells to see Mariah.”

“Good idea. Don’t want you moping around here missing me while I’m up in London. Damned shame I have to go; but duty calls. They need my help at the Royal Society again; such a bind. It’s going to take all weekend.”

“I’ll get by Reginald. Don’t worry.” She knew he wouldn’t. He’d be too busy with that actress and wouldn’t be going near the Royal Society. Not that she cared one jot for his infidelity. It saved her from having to satisfy his lust. When he wasn’t ploughing the London actress, he was in one of the bordellos in Tunbridge Wells made famous by the visits of the Prince Regent.