Wickedly Wanton: A Ménage Regency Tale (6 page)

Sabine fidgeted around the music room as she awaited Mr. Reddick's return. Her thoughts tumbled in circles: Faith, Reddick, Aiden, she and Faith, she and Aiden, the three of them together during that one perfect afternoon. She needed to order her thoughts, needed to relax during her interview with Reddick.

No matter how she tried, it was no use. She hadn't slept well last night, between remembering her afternoon with Aiden and Faith's tears. Faith. She hadn't told her friend about her tryst with Aiden, couldn't bring herself to when Faith had crawled into bed and wrapped herself around Sabine.

Instead, she promised that she'd find a way to keep them together after her marriage to Reddick. Then the tears began in earnest, and Sabine was exhausted from reassuring Faith all would be well after
her
marriage.

But she couldn't rest now, no matter how tired she felt.

Standing at the large windows overlooking the garden, Sabine watched Faith clip flowers. She'd gone out some time ago, claiming to need both the fresh air and the distraction. Sabine hadn't stopped her, unable to handle more tears and begging.

She worried over Faith's ability to handle this change. Never one to embrace it, Sabine wondered if this marriage and subsequent separation would send her over the edge and into seclusion.

“What occupies your thoughts?”

Whirling from the window, Sabine turned to see Mr. Reddick. He looked at her with hooded eyes, and she realized she had no idea what color his eyes were. All she could see were Aiden's brown ones laughing with her, how they darkened to near black with his passion.

Forcing a smile, she steadied her nerves.

“You,” she answered a tad too honestly. Reddick's gaze sharpened, and she found she didn't like it one bit. Tilting her head, she fluttered her hand in dismissal. “The future,” she clarified, “and our marriage.”

He stalked forward, moving far more gracefully than she expected. “It pleases me I merit your rapt attention.”

Reddick took her bare hand and kissed the back, his lips lingering over the skin. She tried not to jerk away, and feared she left him with the wrong impression. No choice, she reminded herself.

“I also confess that you were never far from my mind these last days.” He straightened, still holding her hand. His thumb caressed her knuckles, but Sabine didn't pull away. If he was to be her husband, and she could see no alternative, she needed to grow accustomed to his touch.

“Have I?” she asked with a light laugh. Her heart pounded and she feared he'd hear it. Swallowing the sudden uncertainty she managed, “I've been thinking of our household.”

Reddick raised an eyebrow in surprise. “You'll want for naught and may do with the household as you please. Is that not the wish of every young maid who enters court? You'll be living their deepest desires.”

Leaning in, he dropped his voice but didn't look away. “And fulfilling mine.”

Releasing her hand, he stepped back. Unsure of why her heart pounded, she swallowed against the dryness in her throat. He gestured to the lone chair, inviting her to sit. Despite the fact it was her house, Sabine gratefully accepted.

With deep breaths, she calmed and for the first time truly focused on Reddick. He was handsome, in an older way—hair grayed at the temples, lines drawn out from his eyes. And his eyes, they were a deep grey with flecks of blue she noticed for the first time.

“I wish to know,” she asked formally, “what you expect from me as your wife.”

Leaning back on the settee, Reddick took a long minute to answer. When he did, he shifted forward, one long finger moving down her arm in a quick caress. Sabine tried not to flinch.

“I expect,” he began in a low rumbling voice, “as my wife you to be elegant yet take charge of my household and run the servants as need be. I expect an educated hostess, which I already know you to be, with all the charm and wit of an accomplished woman.”

For the first time in her life, Sabine cursed her father for not teaching her the finer womanly arts. She knew too much of the outside world and enjoyed that knowledge—until it seemed exactly what Rupert Reddick wanted in a wife.

“And most assuredly,” he continued, shifting closer. His eyes darkened, she noticed, the way Aiden's did when he wanted her. “I expect an obedient wife to do as I command.”

Abruptly standing, Sabine moved to the pianoforte. She didn't like the look in Reddick's eyes. It unsettled her, and she tried to ignore it. However, with the new awakening in her, Sabine was all too aware of exactly what Reddick wanted.

He wanted her.

“Would that preclude me from inviting a companion, say my friend Faith, from staying with us?” she asked in what she hoped was an even voice. Her fingers shook on the keys as she struggled with this new knowledge of Reddick.

His hand caressed her neck, and she jumped. But he pressed against her, trapping her between his body and the pianoforte. This strongly reminded her of Aiden taking her against the wall in the foyer, but no more. She remained still against him, struggling to think of a polite way to break free from his grasp.

“Have your companion reside with us. I do not care,” he whispered against her hair, “what fills your days so long as
I
fill you at night.”

Sabine had nothing to say to that, much as she tried to think of a retort. She could easily feel Aiden's cock in her, stretching her in delicious pleasure. Her core throbbed in need. Behind her, she could feel Reddick's cock press against her back. It wasn't the same.

“You've no idea the sensual pleasures I'll introduce you to,” Reddick said, seemingly undeterred by her silence. “You shall learn to appreciate the patience of an older man. I'll take my time with you and elicit the most exquisite rapture from your lips. You'll fall to your knees, sobbing for more, begging for my cock.”

Reddick's hand took hers and, turning her, he ran their fingers over his cock. Sabine couldn't look up, horribly ashamed of her body's reaction. It wasn't the violent need she felt with Aiden, but she was wet. Reddick's manhood stood stiffly against his tight breeches as their fingers traced the outline, across the top, down the length.

“‘Tis a goodly size you'll have to accustomed yourself to,” he said, voice low even as he moved her fingers lower, so that she touched every part of him. “Accustom yourself in all places—between your lovely thighs, between your sweet rosy lips, and between your darkest, tightest entrance.”

Pulling her fingers back, heart pounding as she tried to keep her breathing even, Sabine met Reddick's gray eyes. No, she didn't want him, not
him
. But his words, his movements, reminded her so strongly of Aiden's words
pushing my cock into your untouched ass
, and how she very much wanted the forbidden pleasure he promised.

Nipples hard and aching, body tingling from his words, Reddick's promises, she needed release, needed to feel Aiden's mouth on her, his fingers within her wetness as she kissed Faith.

Faith. She needed
Faith
.

“We shall have a very erotic life together.” Reddick said and he looked as if he might kiss her. Instead, he pressed his cool lips to her forehead with a slight chuckle. “And you shall enjoy every moment of it.”

Stepping to the side, uncaring how rude she looked, Sabine cleared her throat as unobtrusively as possible. Only then did it dawn on her the explicitness of Reddick, how improper he spoke, how scandalous, but she couldn't form the words to admonish him.

“If you'll excuse me,” she said, and hated her voice sounded so breathless, “I must help my friend with the clippings.”

Fleeing the music room, she walked through the house. Before she could rush into the gardens and find Faith humming over pretty, colorful flowers Sabine didn't know the names of, she stopped. Still struggling to breathe, she realized her hand covered her breast, mind blank but for the release of pleasure.

Whirling, she headed for her room. Ringing for the maid, she ordered the girl to find Faith and bring her a tray of tea. She had a headache and needed to rest. Minutes later, Faith entered, concern shadowing her face as she knelt by her bed. Her maid had helped her strip to her chemise and opened the windows to allow what little breeze there was to enter the hot room.

“Sabine,” Faith whispered, taking her hand. “What happened?”

“I'm not ill,” she said, keeping an ear out for the return of the maid, “but spoke to Mr. Reddick.”

“Was he truly horrible?” Faith asked, stroking her arm. Sabine wanted to arch into her and beg for more but merely shook her head.

“No,” she admitted, shame and arousal battling through her. “No, he spoke to me as Lord Severn had. Of intimate pleasures and obedient wives. I'm ashamed to admit”—lowering her head she looked at Faith through her lashes, body burning for her friend's touch—”but his words aroused.”

Just then, before Faith could do more than moan and half stand from the floor, the maid returned. Faith did stand then and went to the girl. Taking the linen square, she wet it in a basin of cool water as the maid poured tea.

Taking both linen and tea to the bedside stand, she turned to the other woman. “Don't disturb Miss Sabine for the rest of the afternoon.”

The girl curtsied and backed away, but Faith stood immobile until the door shut behind her. She took a step toward the bed, then retreated, and Sabine heard the lock click.

Sitting on the side of the bed, Faith took the time to remove her shoes, garters, and stockings. Sabine watched the long pale legs, wanted to run her hands up them. Breathing heavily, skin heated from her encounter with Reddick, Sabine gasped as Faith pressed the cool linen to her neck. Watching her friend, shaking from Reddick's words and Faith's touch, she met the other woman's eyes.

With a sinful smile Sabine never would have expected from Faith, the other woman wrung out the cloth over her breasts, wetting the fabric of the chemise.

“I'm sorry for dampening your chemise,” Faith whispered.

Leaning up on her hands, Sabine kissed her. Unable to deny the hunger clawing through her belly, she probed until Faith opened her mouth. Shifting, she took Faith's face in her hands, tilting her head to deepen the kiss.

Unable to control her breathing now, Sabine pulled back, eyelids heavy, desperate. Faith untied the chemise and pushed it to down around her waist, fingers a light touch on her arms. Her mouth was a barely-there caress on her neck, along her collarbone, down to her breast. But no matter how Sabine wanted her to, Faith didn't take her nipple into her mouth.

No, she ran her tongue around the dark areola, nails tracing the veins. Sabine whimpered, grabbed Faith's head, and begged.

“Faith,” she managed, back arched, nipples aching for a touch, a caress. “Faith, please.”

She felt her lips smile against the sensitive skin of her breast. Very, very gently, she enclosed one nipple into her hot mouth. More, Sabine wanted more, needed to feel Faith's teeth tug on her nipple, the pleasure spearing through her body from that.

Fingers holding Faith close, head thrown back, body tense with arousal, Sabine vaguely realized her hips moved over the bedding. She didn't care. Faith's tongue stroked her nipple once, twice, just a little. Oh, she was so close.

She sucked harder, teeth scraping the nipple as her hand found Sabine's other one, taking it between thumb and forefinger and toying with it, just enough to entice, not enough for satisfaction. Then her teeth clamped down and Sabine cried out, forgetting there were others in the household.

Falling backward, Faith's hands guided them down as she continued to suckle her. Sabine barely had the presence of mind to open her eyes and watch, but did so just in time to see Faith's dark head lift up, eyes locking with hers. She blew on her nipple, the cool air a sharp contrast to the heated intensity of her mouth.

Then Faith knelt between her legs, raising Sabine's hips and yanking the chemise over her hips and off her body. Bare before her, Sabine felt no shyness, only need. She opened her legs wider, inviting Faith.

Faith, chest heaving, face flushed, grabbed her legs and pushed them wide, up to her breasts, completely open to whatever she desired. With one thumb, she traced Sabine's nether lips, just grazing her nub, sending a shiver of pleasure through her.

Mindless, Sabine lifted her hips, hands finding Faith's head, trying to tug her closer. Needing to feel her mouth, her tongue, her fingers. But Faith resisted and quickly, too fast for any satisfaction, slipped her thumb into her.

“Faith.” Sabine thrust her hips closer to her friend's face, aching for more. “Faith, please don't tease me.”

Spreading her with both hands, Faith slipped the tip of her tongue just inside her. Sabine gasped, pressed closer, nails digging into Faith's scalp as she reached for that peak. Her tongue licked slowly up, swirling around her nub, another tease. Before Sabine could do anything more, she sucked the numb into her mouth and thrust two fingers into her.

Stars exploded behind her eyes, and Sabine moved against Faith, letting the pleasure ride over her. Limply falling onto the bed, she felt Faith kiss up her belly, hands cupping her breasts. She could taste herself on that kiss, enjoyed it. Felt the tingles of desire spark through her again.

Faith laid her head on her belly, and Sabine let herself calm. Later, when she could think again, she rolled them over and lifted Faith's skirts.

Smiling wickedly at her she asked, “What do you taste like?”

Sabine had arranged their picnic so they were behind several large oak trees out of line of sight from the house. She didn't want any of the servants to see them as she teased Faith with light caresses.

Even now, watching Faith eagerly sit still as she'd told her to, face flushed, fingers curling into the ground, Sabine stroked the top of her breasts. Should any look from the house, they'd see the linen napkin in Sabine's hand. But Faith arched into her touch, a whimper escaping her lips.

“When I marry,” Sabine said, voice even, “we can have as many picnics such as this as we wish. I doubt Reddick will be the wiser.”

Faith laughed, leaned closer. But Sabine couldn't risk it and smiled, moving backward. Admiring the slant of sunlight on her friend's pale skin through the leaves, she opened her mouth to suggest they retire to the privacy of the stream.

“What a lovely day for a picnic.”

Sabine jumped up at the invasion of their privacy and automatically took a step back.

Rupert Reddick stood there, clothed in a deep green waistcoat and coat, walking stick held negligently in one hand.

“I regret,” he continued, ignoring Faith and focusing solely on Sabine, “the lack of opportunity to join you sooner.”

Offering him a sweet and warm smile, she pushed all thoughts of his scandalously arousing words from her mind. This was her intended husband. Shouldn't she want him? All she could see was Aiden's face, his intensely dark eyes, and his deep voice, so enthralling as he spoke to her.

The promises his hands made on her skin, his whispered words of adventures as he made her climax.

“You may still join us,” she said, the remembered feel of Aiden's skin making her fingers tingle. “We have strawberries, scones, and heavy cream.”

That was a mistake. She remembered Aiden dipping a strawberry into the heavy cream and circling her breasts with it. Then Faith licking the thickness off her.

“A tempting and generous offer, joining you two,” he acknowledged with a smile and bow, still ignoring Faith. “I hope Miss Faith will not mind if I abscond with you, Miss Sabine.” She frowned at him, but his easy demeanor gave nothing away. “I'd very much like to take a long, leisurely stroll with you.”

With no other choice, she moved to take her bonnet and gloves, but he forestalled her. “No need, my dear.”

He held out his arm again and she took it, glancing once at Faith before he led her away. What could he have in mind for this stroll? And without even the semblance of bringing Faith as a chaperone?

They walked a long while, Reddick occasionally offering parts of their future together, bits about what he did in London. Amusing anecdotes from a ball he'd gone to. Sabine obediently listened, laughed, and tried to forget her nervousness. It was no use. The longer they walked, the more ill at ease she became.

Eventually, after over an hour, they came to medium-sized house. It lay alone in the middle of a field, far from the privacy of the woods.

“The owners are traveling,” Reddick said, propelling her forward, “and I've let it for the month.”

“But you have a fine estate not far from here,” she said, turning to him in confusion. “Why would you need to rent such a moderate home?”

“Hmm,” he said with a sly smile. “This home serves my needs quite well. It's bordered by woods on one side and your estate on the other. And it allows,” he said, dipping his head closer to hers, “the privacy I need to begin your instruction.”

Perplexed, she had no choice but to follow. She was already well versed in the running of the household. What further instruction did she need? Stepping through the foyer and into the main parlor, she noted the well-appointed furnishings. The center of the room lay open; nothing cluttered it save for a thick rug.

“We do not have as many hours as I'd care to devote to this.” He set his cane and coat across one chair. “But you are to be my wife shortly, and I wish you to be sufficiently knowledgeable to my tastes when you take your vows.”

Turning in the oddly empty center of the room, Sabine raised an eyebrow. Her vows? Not
their
vows? Warily eyeing him as he unbuttoned his waistcoat and rolled up his sleeves, she said, “I assure you, I am well versed in the running of a household. I can't imagine what instruction you have in mind.”

His chuckle was dark, tinged with menace. Reddick's fingers ran down her cheek, his eyes opaque. “After we're married, I shall be your lord and master.”

Again, Aiden's words came to haunt her.
Bound to my will
, he had said.
You would be quite the treasure to tame. And I would tame you. You would be bound to my will.

Sabine stepped back, wanted to flee, suddenly understanding what Reddick meant. This had naught to do with running his household and everything to do with pleasing him. What
tastes
did he mean? Lost in the newness of his meaning, in the confusion of what she felt, still did feel for Aiden, Sabine floundered.

This man was to be her husband, he was absolutely correct in that. Nothing she said could change that. No man would take her away, elope with her to Gretna Green, the romantic hero. Submitting to Reddick was her only option, her only practical choice if she wanted to find any solace or enjoyment in her marriage.

“As such,” he continued, seemingly unaware of her thoughts, “I have already mentioned I want an obedient wife. But I intend to show you just how obedient I want you.”

* * * *

Rupert watched her, noting an utter lack of fear. Curiosity greeted him, exciting him, and he felt his cock stiffen. Sabine's lips pulled back in a slight smile—understanding, and did he see a hint of anticipation in her darkening blue eyes? Those lips would look magnificent wrapped around him.

Her subjugation would be beautiful.

“I shall not shame you as your wife,” she said, tossing her head. “But I shall not—”

His fingers covered her lips, not touching her, but halting her speech. “Yes you will. You'll do as I say,” he said, removing his hand. “Beginning with falling to your knees.”

Blue eyes opened wide, and she stood there, stunned. Rupert smiled, pleased he took her by surprise with the intensity of his order. “My intention is to train you,” he said, circling her, “to serve me as I like.”

“I am no servant,” she said, that spark of spirit back in her voice. “I'm to be your wife.”

“And as my wife,” he whispered, breath moving the stray hairs against her soft neck, “your duty will be to serve. Understand that.”

Gazing down at her, Rupert saw her eyes close, a thin shiver race through her luscious body. He was right and saw that she knew it. Without further reply, face flaming in shame, she fell gracefully to her knees. He'd fuck the shame out of her soon enough.

Content with this obedience, he stood before her and watched her gaze up at him in supplication.

Perfect.

“That is the position you are to take—no matter where you are, no matter who else is in the room—whenever I smack the back of my right hand to my left palm.” He did this, making sure she observed him. “Do you understand?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

“Yes what?” he demanded, voice hard. She looked up at him in confusion and he prompted her. “
Yes, Sir.
”

“Yes, Sir,” she repeated.

“I'm very pleased, Sabine,” he said. Stepping to her, he tipped her chin up with a finger and smiled. “How I am to enjoy you. We haven't much time this afternoon, and I've a great deal to teach you before our wedding. Subtleties that shall have to wait for another time.”

Rupert moved back just a little, hardening further when he saw her eyes flicker to the bulge in his breeches. Repressing a chuckle, he wondered just how curious she was, what she'd do before the marriage bed.

Taking a seat in the chair facing the large windows, curtains opened just enough to allow sunlight into the room but hide them from any curious eyes, he beckoned her forward. “Come here.”

Sabine rose and he immediately slapped the back of his hand to his palm. Frowning, she dropped back to her knees.

“Now.” He settled comfortably in the chair, booted feet on the floor, legs spread just enough to accommodate her body. A smooth glass phallus lay beside him on the small table where he'd placed it this morning. “Come here.”

She started to rise, but then realized what he meant, raising up just enough to keep her gown out of her way. She crawled on her knees to him. Smiling, he caressed her cheek again. “Very good, Sabine.”

The smile she offered was tight, small, but her eyes gave her away. The curiosity that had greeted him earlier still shone brightly in them.

“Open my breeches,” he instructed. The smile vanished. He took her hands and helped her undo the ties and buttons. Her fingers shook, but she did as he showed, concentrating on the task. “Take my cock out,” he ordered.

A blush stained her cheeks, and she didn't look up at him, but she instantly obeyed. Leaning back, he enjoyed her soft fingers as she removed him from the confines of his clothing. She caressed him, quite without him telling her to, and though he enjoyed it, that was not what he ordered.

“No.” The word cut across the room and she let out a yelp, releasing his cock. “Wait until I tell you so, Sabine.”

“Yes, Sir,” she said instantly.

“Give me your hands,” he said, and once again, she instantly obeyed.

Pulling her up, he pressed her against him, her belly touching his cock, breasts crushed against his chest. Helpless. Reaching around her back, he loosened the laces and buttons of her gown, let the fabric fall open as he cupped her rounded ass and caressed the crease there. She didn't protest, and her eyes darkened slightly.

Rupert repressed a chuckle.

“What pleases me is when you press your body against mine. When you run your hands along every inch of me.” Sitting up, he held her from him. “When you expose your breasts in offering.”

He didn't have to wait long for her trembling hands to take the edges of her gown and drag it down. Her nipples were hard, long hard points too tempting to resist. He took one into his mouth, sucking violently.

“Oh!” Sabine gasped.

He'd discipline her later, too delighted with her reaction just now. But later, he'd take great pleasure in reminding her of the rules. Biting on the hard peak, he ran his tongue over it, felt her shudder against him. Switching his attention to the other breast, he lavished the same attention on that one.

Abruptly releasing her he said, “I always enjoy tasting a woman's skin.” Sabine breathed heavily, hands tight fists in her blue gown, eyes a dark blue fire. “But now it's time to teach you how to enjoy mine.”

Taking the phallus from the table, he put the tip to her slightly parted lips. Her lips parted a bit more, and he grinned.

“Open your mouth, Sabine.”

She did so, tongue swiping across her lower lip. Yes, he wanted to make her hungry for him, hungry to please him in all ways.

Holding the glass phallus steady, he said, “Use your tongue and swirl it about just the tip.”

He saw her swallow; then her tongue darted out to touch the warm glass. She swirled around it, tasting a little more with each movement of her tongue.

“You'll learn,” he said as she continued, “to worship my cock. Your tongue will become familiar with its smoothness, its length, it contours. And your throat will grow accustomed to its fit.”

Eyes half closed now opened wide and she stopped, but only for a heartbeat. Her breasts moved with her quick breathing as she resumed tonguing the glass. Rupert pushed it farther into her mouth, forcing her lips wide. He pulled it back out, noted her tongue continued its movements, and pushed the phallus in, a little farther this time.

Out, farther in until he fucked her face with the glass, and she accepted it. Eyes watering, nails ripping into her gown, she continued to do as he ordered. Rupert's cock, already stiff, hardened further, and he wanted to feel those warm lips around him. See her eyes tear as he fucked her and she swallowed every drop of him.

But he moved too fast. This was only her first lesson. And she performed superbly. Removing the phallus from her lips, he carefully set it back on the table. Sabine panted before him but obediently remained where she knelt. She didn't move to wipe her mouth or the tears from her cheeks.

Unable to resist such temptation, he dismissed the rest of the day's lessons.

“Bend forward, Sabine,” he whispered, hand already pushing her head down, “and duplicate the actions you so expertly performed on me.”

She swallowed, he saw the uncertainty in her eyes, but without a word or gesture of protest, she ran her tongue over her lips and took him into her mouth. She couldn't take him as deep as he'd have enjoyed, she was hardly trained for that. Still, there was time and the hot wetness of her mouth, the swirl of her tongue, had him teetering on the edge of pleasure all too soon.

Giving himself over, he stood, watched her scramble backward to keep pleasuring him. The submissive act had him climaxing, and just in time, he pulled his cock out so only the tip remained in her mouth.

Holding her head to him he said, “Drink in my seed. All of it.”

Then he climaxed, felt her swallowing, gasp for breath, but she obeyed. Collapsing onto the chair, Rupert took a moment to recover. Sabine looked a mess, downright beautiful with tears running down her face, breasts heaving, and nipples hard little points. A flush covered her from those handsome nipples to her face, but she remained kneeling.

“At this moment, you paint the perfect portrait of my subjugated bride.