The Muse (36 page)

Imogene relaxed into him.  “He is rather alarming and quite forward in his manners.  He seems a little mad actually.”

“I am not surprised.  Remember what I told you about artists?  Poets are artists as well.  Their creativity and talent is often expressed to the rest of us mortals as a kind of madness.  I have seen it time and time again.  In order to express the art, the mind must be freer and more open to experimentation, and often in direct conflict with society’s limits.  Byron is more outrageous than most, it’s true.”  Graham gave her a look of wonderment.  “Does he really think you are related to him by blood?”

Imogene nodded. “He called me
Cousin
and said he would think of me as such, insisting I do the same.”  She shook her head in disbelief.  “He also told me he had met my father in Parliament and that Papa had complimented him on his maiden speech.”

“You are unsettled,
chérie.
”  He kissed her forehead.  “Why don’t you go on up and have a rest.  All is well, and I’ll not have you worried over this for even one moment.  ’Twill be fine, you will see.”  He led her out of the study, blowing a smiling kiss at her as she left him.

Walking away, she felt weak.  Graham was, of course, easy in his manner with this difficulty, as was his way.  She felt guilty in sharing the secret of the
dishabille
portrait with Byron.
  If he says anything about that portrait in front of Graham I will give him a limp in his other leg, I swear! 
Still, something in the back of her brain told her that worrying was for naught.  She could trust him with the secret.  He would keep her confidence.  Imogene had to believe that he would because she didn’t have a choice in the matter.

GRAHAM came up to check on her later. The work on her chamber and the bathing room was progressing, and they were now settled in their temporary rooms. Imogene was having a soak in the bath when he entered. "How is my bewitching mermaid?" he whispered from behind as he drew up close, kneeling on the floor.  "Are you feeling more settled,
chérie
?" Resting his hands on her shoulders, he slowly began to caress downward with searching fingers. She relaxed her head backward to rest on his chest and allowed him the pleasure of his hands on her. "You certainly feel more relaxed," he breathed into her ear, bringing his head around the side of her face to kiss her deeply. He could feel her passionate response to him and it spurred him. He really didn't come upstairs with the sole intention of having her.  Rather, it was just usually the culmination of his visit.  One look, one touch, one kiss, and he was lost to the passion she ignited in him. Her beauty and loving nature caught him every time, making him helpless to refrain from showing her how much he loved her.

"Mmm, I was hoping you would come to see me.”

“Really?  So my visit is a welcome one then?”

“Your visits are always welcome.”

“Now you are feeding my ego,
chérie
.  I wonder if you know what you do to me,” he asked glumly.  “I am powerless against your charms.”

“I know,” she purred.  His eyes met hers, sparkling in all their rich brown brilliance.  They communicated silently with just their eyes, both imagining what they might be doing in the next moments.

“Are you ready to leave your bath?”

She nodded and held out her hand.  Graham reached for a towel and assisted her out of the tub, wrapped it around her slick body and carried her to the bed.  Laying her down, he smiled slowly but determinedly while stripping out of his clothes.  When he was as bare as she was, he pulled her towel away and joined her on the bed, holding her close for a while.  He adored the feel of her next to him with no barriers, nothing to separate the touch of his skin against hers.

He trailed his mouth over her in a slow languorous sweep of kisses that started with her neck and moved on down.  He kept going, in a pathway down her ribs, over her belly and lower still to the top of her thigh.  His mouth moved toward the inside of her thigh.  He heard the intake of breath at her understanding of his intended destination.  “Imogene…I want to taste you… pleasure you.  Please,
chérie
?  Let me.”  He pressed her legs apart gently before feeling her give way, allowing him to do that which he desired…

He licked at her nub and buried his tongue inside her soft quim, learning her taste and relishing the tightening of her muscles in response to his actions. He pleasured her to the brink, and then over the other side on sobbing moans.  All of it music to his ears—as was the shuddering of her thighs against the sides of his face when she climaxed, shouting out his name.

Imogene rolled onto her side, pulling her knees up and panting through the pangs that lingered.  Graham sidled up behind her.  Kissing along her neck now and resting a hand over her pounding heart, caressing her nipple.  “You are so beautiful when you take your pleasure.  I love giving it to you.  Spiced plum, you tasted like a spiced plum.”

His words provoked her, and she gave a little cry, burying her face into the pillows.  “Oh Graham,” she moaned.  “What you do to me!”

He laughed softly, trying to roll her so he could see her eyes, but she resisted, keeping her face buried in the pillows.  “Oh,
chérie
, do not be shy with me,” he teased.  “Have I shocked and embarrassed you?”

“Utterly!”  She continued to resist his efforts to turn her.

“What?  Are you not going to look at me now?”

“I doubt if I shall ever be able to look at you again,” she cried, still speaking into the pillow.

He spoke confidently.  “So, it was dreadful?  You do not wish for me to repeat that, ever again, then?  Pity, I thought you were enjoying yourself.  It seemed like you were…”

With a squeal she flipped herself over and pushed him back down into the bed.  She hovered over him with a challenging smile.  “Lord Rothvale, you are most shocking, and outrageous and scandalous and—”

Snaking his hand behind her head, he brought her down, cutting her off with a hard kiss.  “Let me guess.  You have thought about it, and have decided that you might like me to do it again after all?”

“Perhaps.  But you are still wicked, and very, very—” Imogene paused, looking down at him thoughtfully.  Teasing put aside, her mind appearing to be working.  “I shall have to punish you now.  You know, an eye for an eye?”  She smiled at what had to be his look of complete astonishment as understanding of her intent dawned on him.

Oh, fuck yes.

Dropping her head down quickly, she settled herself right over his cock, taking the base in her small hand and stroking it a few times slowly.  She studied him for a moment before opening her pretty mouth and covering his cock with her warm wet tongue.  She explored him, learning how far she was able to take him down, sliding his shaft up and down.  She licked up the sides and tip and simulated the act of a fuck.

The sight of his cock piercing and then retreating from within her pink lips sent him up to the heavens and back again.

His beautiful princess did for him what he had done for her.  She took his prick into her sweet mouth and sucked until he couldn’t hold back a second longer and spilled his seed down her warm throat.  As he rode out the intense feelings of pleasure he had pause to observe his wife.  If he had to assess her feelings about what she’d just done for him he’d say Imogene seemed fascinated by the experience, in a kind of wonderment at the whole thing.  She looked up shyly at him and licked her glossy lips…

It was a long time before he was able to say anything.

“So you turn tables on me yet again,
chérie. 
I am no match for you, of that I am sure.”

“I told you.  An eye for an eye.  It is only fair.”  She said saucily, “Please say if I was too shocking or if you do not want me to do that to you again.  I will abide by your wishes.”

He rewarded her teasing with a thorough tickling to which she shrieked and laughed.  “You may have my complete cooperation should you wish to repeat that particular performance,
chérie
.  I assure you, I can accommodate you, any time.”  He kissed her slowly until their mood changed back to relaxed and languid.  “Now, when you must tolerate Byron this evening in his trouncing of convention, and his boorish attentions, I want you to remember this afternoon and know that nothing he does can touch us…what we have together, Imogene.”

She looked up at him in amazement.  “Is there a purpose behind
everything
you do?”

“Not at all.  This interlude was, most assuredly, a complete surprise for me as it was for you.  But I will admit that in everything I do, my purpose is to show you how much I love you.”

“Did you ever think you’d be doing any of
this
in your old rooms?”  She looked around the room decisively.

“Now who is being naughty?” he clucked at her.  “Who would have thought that underneath all that innocent beauty is quite an intrepid seductress?”

“You can definitely take all credit for my transformation, husband.  For I
know
I was not like this before you!”  She gently pushed at his chest with her hands.

He grasped her hands, pinning her playfully onto her back as he loomed over.  “Credit I will gladly accept, but still, I want you to think of our encounter today and know that nothing Byron says or does can shock you anymore.”  He gave her a smirk that broke into a wide grin.  “The expression on your face is priceless,
chérie
.”

“I won’t forget, Graham.”  And she wouldn’t forget their encounter this afternoon for a long, long time.  If ever.

IMOGENE dressed carefully for dinner with Hester’s expert assistance.   She wanted to equip herself with as much armor as possible to help her survive the evening with Byron.  She even devoted part of her afternoon to reading the rest of ‘Childe Harold’s Progress’ in an effort to have topics of conversation to draw from. She chose a long sleeved, low-cut, blue silk gown.  She wore the heart pendant from Graham with its sparkling sapphire border and selected sapphire earrings to complement it.  Her presentation was simple and elegant, and she intended to portray herself as confident and composed, at all costs.

Graham arrived to escort her down and paused in a courtly bow, sweeping his eyes over her with a dramatic flourish.  “You are far too beautiful for your own good,
chérie
.”  He offered his arm. “I was hoping you’d have dressed yourself in a sack and have dirt on your face,” he admonished.  “I fear it is my fate to be forever fending off the throngs of avaricious fools who admire you and seek your favour.  You know you do not help me when you look so beauteous.”

She smiled at him gratefully.  “I know you are up to the task.  I have every confidence in you, my darling.”

They settled in the parlor to await their guests.  Graham was reminded of the letter that had arrived earlier from Everfell and realized Imogene had not yet had an opportunity to read it.  “We have been invited to Everfell.  Jules and Mina insist we have been left on our own for long enough, and must grace them with an extended stay.  They are having a ball in our honor, celebrating our marriage since they were not able to attend.”

“How generous.”

“I don’t see how we’ll be able to do less than a fortnight with them,” he said tentatively.