The Muse (18 page)

He shot up, looming over her.

“Imogene, have I hurt you?  I can’t bear it if I have.  Are you all right?  Was I a beast?  Why do you weep?”

Panic overtaking, he fired questions at her, dreading that his worst fear had come true: that he had given pain, and terrified her.  She couldn’t possibly understand how she affected him.  He couldn’t help it.  He became completely crazed, a senseless creature who could think of nothing but possessing her.  He should have gone slower, been gentler.  It was her first time.  He despaired, agonizing at the idea of her distress. 
Damn me to the bowels of hell.

She turned her face to look at him.  “No.  I am fine…and well.  I do not know why I weep, truly, I cannot say.  I felt suddenly overcome.  Emotional.  It stirred me and…it was powerful of sensation.  I feel close to you.  I am ignorant of this I know, but you did not hurt me, nor are you a beast. You could
never
be that, Graham. ” She brought her hand to his face and reassured him. “I’ll have to learn what you need to please you better.  I am bereft for words to explain...”  She pushed her face into his shoulder as if she might be feeling shy.

“And you believe that you did not satisfy me well enough just now?  That I find you wanting in the experience?”  He was incredulous.

Imogene nodded just a fraction, her face still pressed against him.

“That is not possible.”  Relief flooded through him that she was not offended by the fucking.  He brushed his fingers under her chin, and forced her to look at him.  “Let me relieve you of your anxiety,
chérie
.  I was spent from the pleasure of you.  I simply could not speak any words.  Time ceased to be present, so lost was I…in you.  I have dreamed of making love to you for so long.  I was out of my mind with desire for you.  We will learn together, but you must know, my lovely, brave Imogene, that you were perfect in every way, and I am
very, very
pleased.”  The thought she believed she did not please him enough was so absurd, he almost laughed.  But he did not.  Instead he kissed her gently, letting his hair curtain over her face; feeling her relax and melt into him was a comfort.  He wanted her to know she was his precious treasure.

He relished the feel as her hand idly began stroking his hair once more, her other hand grazing over his skin.  The warmth from the fire radiated throughout the room.  Graham knew the cause of her worries.  Imogene was feeling maidenly self-conscious to be sure, but she had not reached fulfilment, and did not yet truly understand what was possible between them.  Thus the bereft feelings she’d tried to explain.

“
Chérie
, I think I understand.  Now, you must trust me and allow me to help you.  It is my duty as your husband to give you pleasure.  Let me show you.  Just me and me together, loving each other—that is all this is.  No more worries or fears about anything.  I wouldn’t want you except just as you are.  You are perfect, and have always been perfect to me.”

“I do...trust you.”

That was all he needed to go forward, and the next minutes were spent doing just that—trusting.

He urged her legs apart and slid two fingers between her thighs, up against the folds of her quim, now slick from the seed he’d spilled in her before.  She gasped and jerked when he first touched her but seemed to accept the sensation once he started stoking the swell of her clit in a circular motion.  She looked so beautiful submitting to him it was hard not to bury his cock deep into her again.  He knew he needed to wait and give her this pleasuring first, but his beastly desires were raging nearly out of control.

“Just feel,
chérie
.  Feel, and let the pleasure embrace you, let it take you over the edge.”

In moments she was breathing heavy and panting his name.  She rocked her hips and arched her back, thrusting her breasts closer to his lips.  He took the beauteous offering and sucked on a dark pink nipple, loving the sound of her pleasured moan.  Graham didn’t stop working her slippery nub, pushing her closer toward a satisfying end.

Imogene’s breath grew short, “I—I do feel something—”

He kept her going, in complete awe of her beauty and the sight of her body being overtaken and ruled by pleasure.  Fulfilment that he gave to her.  Her hands gripped his hair, anchoring him to her as she grew closer to her peak.  Graham relished the power of giving her this first taste.

She cried out his name at the end, clenching her lovely tight cunt around his fingers.  It was a beautiful thing to witness.

When she could speak, Imogene stared up at him, wonderment glowing in her expression.  “Is that what it feels like for you?”  Her brown eyes glittered with a passion and knowing that had not been there before.

“It would appear so, my beautiful lover…
mon bel amoureuse. 
You are a priceless jewel; do you know that?  Your pleasure is my pleasure, and my happiness is now totally complete.”

Settling in next to her, he had a vision.  It flashed forward many years.  It was him doing this very thing—slipping under the covers with Imogene already there, waiting for him.  A simple act, but powerful in its meaning to him.  He felt guilty, like he did not deserve to be this happy.  As he pulled her to him, he stroked her cheek with the back of his hand.  “I love you so much…these words are not enough for what I am feeling right now.  They cannot possibly do justice to this experience with you.”

Imogene moved her hand over his body slowly.  “I had no idea…no idea that it would be like this.”  Her hand traced his face and then his neck.  She explored his chest and shoulder, moving down his arm to his waist, and across his ribs to his stomach, over the trail of dark hair that dipped down to his cock.

She appeared fascinated by his body.  Her skin was so smooth and soft, so different from him.

“You are beautiful, Graham,” she breathed.  “You are magnificently made—”

He cut off her words with a deep, hard kiss.  Imogene’s open admiration of his body had inflamed him beyond his ability to rein in the desire for more.

He plunged his tongue into her mouth, taking her hands and pinning them to the bed before burying his cock into his beautiful wife for a second time.

And he didn’t stop until she’d shouted out evidence of a second pleasuring…

They drifted into a half-sleep of contentment, just two lovers tangled in bed together when he asked, “How do you feel,
chérie
?  How are you, right now?”  He hoped she would tell him.

It was a moment before she answered.  “Filled-up, possessed, loved…warm inside, so warm.”

Her lovely words moved him.  Pulling her up against his chest, feeling her breasts and skin meld with his, he was utterly gratified.  “You warm me, Imogene.  With you in my arms, I’ll never be cold again, not in the whole of my life.”  He closed his eyes to sleep in the embrace of his beloved.

She murmured drowsily as she drifted, “I know.  Nothing could ever come between us…”

His eyes snapped open.

The whisper of dread wafted past and brushed against the cocoon of peace that enfolded them.

No.  Nothing will.  I’ll never let that happen.

That I make poetry and give pleasure (if I give pleasure) are because of you.

Horace - Roman poet   ~ Odes, 50 BC

IMOGENE
woke.  The room was darker now for the candles guttered low.  Fire embers glowed in the hearth.  Her husband slept next to her. 
My husband
.  Watching him sleep, she thought he looked younger, serene, and peaceful in his slumber.  No trace of the burdens of daily life he must carry.

Thinking about their love making made her shiver, the images too new and erotic to actually picture in her mind.  She had to admit his passionate demands surprised her, being both dominating and needful all at once.  Graham’s typical manner with her was usually easy and obliging, so experiencing this fervid, insistent side of him was an unexpected revelation.

It didn’t frighten her, though.  She felt secure in his love, and somehow understood his primal need for her.  Aunt Wilton had explained it, saying he would take great pleasure in her.  Thus Imogene was enlightened as to the power that her acquiescence would ultimately give her.  It was an ancient understanding, a ‘riddle’ that women have solved about their men; the covenant between husband and wife.

Graham had certainly loved her thoroughly, his experience in these matters clearly evident.  That thought produced a frown.  Imogene didn’t want to think too much on the idea of other women being with him, but she was pragmatic for all of her sensitivity; she knew that there must have been others.  He was close to thirty years and had lived in Paris, as a painter. 
Artists’ models perhaps?

She thought back on her aunt’s advice that it need not be dreadful and giggled. 
Definitely not dreadful!

“Something amuses you,
chérie
?  Pray tell, please share.”

“Oh, I did not know you had awakened.  Did I disturb you, my lover?” she asked with another giggle.

“Oh yes, you disturb me greatly.  In my dreams you are cavorting about and producing for me the utmost of disturbances, for weeks and weeks now.  What shall I do about it?  Hmmm?”  Reaching playfully, he tickled her.

Imogene shrieked from his tickling. “I never cavort about, sir!  You must have me mistaken for another!”

“No.”  Graham frowned and wagged his finger at her.  “I am positive it was you, and most definite about the cavorting.”

“You cast aspersions to my character rather freely, do you not?  What have you to say for yourself, sir?”

“It is an interesting question you ask of me.  The thing is, I would much rather show you, than say for myself.”  He pulled her to him and pressed his hard cock against her hip, his message clear.

“Again?” she gasped.

“Oh yes, again.  I cannot get enough of you.” Graham captured her mouth, took her face in one of his hands, holding her captive as he descended on her lips.  “I need to be this close to you.”

This time when he slid his cock inside her she welcomed the hard length of him filling her.  It went faster, the feelings more intense, masterful.  His domination of her was loving, but total.

He kissed her breasts and told her of his love as he moved, worshipping; adoring her body with his body.  Telling her what she was doing for him and how wonderful her cunny felt wrapped tight around his cock.  Scandalous words whispered in the heat of passion.

Graham’s passionate need of her was still very new and almost frenzied in its expression.  Imogene was completely in his power and feared she would lose herself entirely, in a spark of flame, as it ignited, burned and consumed her.

He consumes me
,
but it does feel divine to give myself to him in this way.  He needs me.

Imogene fell asleep for the second time with this thought in her mind.

GRAHAM left her sleeping, looking like a goddess in the sheets.  He thought she might need some time, some privacy for herself, so he removed himself quietly from the bed.  To leave her, even for a moment, was unthinkable, but he did it anyway.

WAKING came slowly, until the morning sun had broken through the shades.  Imogene became aware of her surroundings and blushed at the memories of the previous night.  She stretched and turned, finding she was alone.  Upon the pillow next to her was a note, and upon that, a hothouse rose.  The outside was addressed to ‘Mrs. Everley,’
the handwriting his familiar script.

Imogene,

I hope you are well this morning and feeling somewhat rested.  I went out to secure horses for our journey today onto Gavandon.  I am anxious to present my beautiful bride as the new mistress of our home.  The business that needed attending to is of a tedious nature and you were sleeping so soundly, looking so peaceful, I could not bear to wake you, even though, selfishly, I did contemplate the notion.  Our first night together is a precious memory I will hold dear until the end of my life.  Look to the breakfast tray,
chérie,
and you will find a trinket, a love token if you will, from your adoring husband.

G

Imogene pressed the letter to her chest as if to absorb some of him from it.  She rose from the bed and found her gown still lying on the floor from last night.  Heat filled her again from the memories it evoked.  She donned it and located one of the gorgeous silk brocade wrappers that she had ordered in London, to wear over it.  In truth, she did ache a little, but it was not bad.  Graham had been so careful with her, considerate, solicitous even.  She recalled how he had insisted upon allowing him to soothe her with a cool cloth last night, and blushed deeply again.

Don’t bother yourself about being shy with him now for he’s seen all of you and you of him.

Shivering at the thought, she went about her morning ablutions.

When she went into the adjoining sitting room she saw upon the table a tray laden with their breakfast, and coffee and tea laid out.  Peering down at the tray, she found a black jewellers’ box.  Imogene took in a breath at the sight of the ‘trinket’ inside.  It was a pendant on a blue velvet ribbon.  A puffed heart of gold, heavily engraved, rimmed with tiny pearls.  On the back was the inscription: 
I, You hold my heart, G.

Imogene tied the ribbon around her neck, her hands shaking just a little.  She put her fingers over the heart pendant and held them there.  Feeling loved and cherished by her husband, she sat in the sitting room, sipping her tea, lost in thought, emotions welling up again and nearly causing her to weep.

“Ah, the beauty has awakened from her slumber.” She heard his voice before she felt his strong arms wrap around her from behind.  Lips grazed her neck, kissing below her ear.  “Good morning, my lady.  Does the trinket please you?”

“Oh, Graham.”  She reached a hand back and touched the side of his head.  “It is so beautiful and precious to me, as are you.  I will cherish it forever.  You spoil me.  But truly, it is hardly a trinket.”

“On the contrary,
chérie
.  Your beauty outshines that trinket a hundredfold.  I fear you are not spoilt yet, just prone to a little reckless cavorting about in my dreams.  I was blessed with the most satisfying dreams last night—probably the best I have ever known.  And I can assure you there was a
great deal
of reckless cavorting involved.”

“Ha, you devil!”  She spun and leapt up from her chair, facing him.  “If I am prone to reckless cavorting, the fault is all yours for imagining me as a cavorter in your dreams.  The next time you find me there, cavorting recklessly that is, I hope I am wearing this pendant.”  She patted the heart lovingly with her fingers.

“Point taken, Mrs. Everley.”  He gathered her into his arms. “You are wise beyond your years, and quite onto me I fear.” Graham kissed her deeply before pulling back to seek her eyes.  His teasing put aside, eyes fiery with emotion, he whispered, “I love you, and thank you, for last night.”

“As I love you, and it was my sincerest pleasure, my husband.”  She felt herself flush.

“Still blushing prettily I see.”  He stroked over her cheek.  “Are you truly well this morning, Imogene?  I was not too…demanding?  If I was, I am deeply sorry.  You create such a need inside me, to possess you, and to love you that I simply lose my self-control.  On my honor, I will strive to be more of a gentleman in the future.”

Imogene opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again as she composed the words to say to him.

“My questions have struck you dumb, I see.”  He frowned.  “Not a good sign—”

She shushed him with fingers to his lips. “Stop.  You are blabbering,” she said very softly.  “There is to be none of that.  No more talk of offending me with your, ah, passionate ways.  I am perfectly well and happy this morning.”  She tipped her finger at him. “I absolutely will not hear any talk of you striving
to be
more
of a gentleman.  Understand that you made everything perfect for me.  Truly you did.  And one more thing, my stormy lover,” her voice lowering, “I love you, just the way you were last night, and the way you are right now.”

Graham’s beaming smile in response to her little speech reminded her of a schoolboy receiving praise from the headmistress.

“Will you join me for breakfast?  May I offer you some tea or coffee?” she asked him.

“Are you in need of sustenance, my love?  I know I kept you quite occupied until late into the evening.” He arched his brows.

“Yes, actually, I am quite famished.”

“May I feed
you
morsels then?  What foods would please you best?”  He swept his hand over the table.

“You are very light-hearted this morning, husband.  I thought your intentions were to get organized and moving along toward reaching Gavandon.  Anxious to present the new mistress and all that?  Am I mistaken in this, sir?” she questioned, archly.

“Thank God I wedded you, Mrs. Everley.  You are the epitome of efficiency and organization.  And a more beautiful task master could not be found anywhere, I am sure.  Well done, my love.”  He reached for her again. “You are just what I needed in a partner because I am so easily distracted, you see.”  He teased, playfully kissing down her neck and shoulders.

“Really, my darling,” she said with a mock sigh, “joviality abounding at every turn?  Who would have thought it?  The somber Lord Rothvale teasing and joking at all hours of the day and night.  Hardly possible most would declare.  Why, I daresay people would think you quite unhinged in your present state.”  She loved teasing him.