Carnal Knowledge Ch. 05-06

They had circled the room, swirling in a flurry of turns and flaring skirts. He stared over her shoulder with a bored expression, expecting to find her silly and annoying.

Glancing down, he met her calculating gaze, far more intelligent than he had expected.

"May I ask you a question, Lord Rockdale?" she asked.

"If you must," he drawled.

Isabelle leaned in closer. "My curiosity has been aroused, my lord," she confided, with a sweet smile that flashed her dimples. "You must tell me...is your cock as big as the naughty ladies whisper it is?"

He had stumbled, nearly causing them to crash into a nearby circling couple.

When he had finally recovered and found the steps once more, her knowing smile had spread slow and sly across her face.

But it wasn't until Lord and Lady Lisle's house party in the country near the end of the season that Rockdale had truly stumbled.

He sat in Lisle's library, drinking alone late one night. Isabelle, also a guest at the party, had slipped inside the double wood doors.

The click of the door had seemed loud in the silent room. She said not a word as she unbelted her midnight-blue velvet dressing gown and let it fall.

As it turned out Miss Thorne had been a young lady of many talents. Completely nude except for a cunning pair of high-heeled slippers, she sashayed across the room, hips swaying in a seductive rhythm that his eyes transmitted to his thumping heart.

His cock rose to attention as she stood before him, one hip cocked, her crimson hair loose and flowing down her back, index finger in her pouting mouth. She slowly drew the finger down, over her full bottom lip, down her neck, down over her softly-rounded tit, circling one pink nipple. His eyes followed as if mesmerized as that finger drew a line down her stomach, and slid into the crease between her legs.

He forced his eyes back to her face, scowling. She smiled slowly, that same sly and knowing smile he remembered from before.

"What game are you playing here, little girl?" he asked gruffly.

Isabelle laid a finger—the one previously between her legs—across his lips. "Don't be grumpy, Rockdale," she soothed with an impish gleam in her eye. "I'm here to make you feel all better."

In an instant, she was astride his lap, her hand seeking out and freeing his stiffening cock from his trousers.

"Oh my," she purred, stroking his shaft up and down. "Those naughty ladies were right! You are a very big boy, aren't you, darling?"

He shuddered as her grip tightened, almost roughly masturbating him until he was gasping and straining against her small hand.

Isabelle paused for a moment, dipping a finger into the shiny fluid leaking from his shaft, spreading the slick moisture over the bulbous head. She lifted the wet finger to her lips, slowly drawing the digit between her lips to suckle at it.

Rockdale struggled to think with the head atop his shoulders. "Miss Thorne, what the bloody hell do think you're doing?" he rasped.

Her eyes stared directly back at him as the finger popped out of her mouth. She smiled again, showing a line of small white teeth. "I'm going to fuck you," she said matter-of-factly, her tongue sliding seductively along her plump bottom lip.

Intending on setting her firmly off his lap, his hands instead curved around her tight little arse as she lifted up and guided his cock into the soft cleft between her parted legs. The snug passage accepted his penetration in a smooth movement as she sank down, impaling herself fully on his aching penis.

"Shit," Rockdale muttered. The girl was wet; he could feel her slickness around his cock, and except to grab her arse, he had not laid a finger on the chit. Her hips began to slowly piston over him with what even his dazed brain recognized as practiced ease.

More than a little drunk, Rockdale gave up the pretense of protest and leaned back to enjoy being so skillfully ridden, the girl's small tits bouncing as her tightly-stretched quim worked up and down his cock.

Her pale eyes glittered in the near darkness, and she rubbed herself boldly between her spread legs. Her gasps and high-pitched moans fueled the feeling of forbidden excitement in the otherwise quiet room.

Rockdale broke out in a sweat. He felt oddly disconcerted and out of control, almost as if this auburn-haired minx had cast some sort of spell upon him. Feeling her intense stare, he glanced up, and his gut twisted at the triumphant expression on her pretty face.

The fog of lust lifted long enough for Rockdale to realize no matter how good her slick cunt felt sheathing his cock, he loathed being the object of any girl's whim. He bared his teeth in an ugly smile and was pleased to see her countenance falter.

The earl reached out, pinched down hard on a soft nipple and twisted.

"Ouch!" she gasped in surprise.

"Don't ever try to manipulate me again," he growled, roughly grabbing hold of her hips and shoving inside harder and deeper.

She squeaked, bowing back. Rockdale leaned forward to catch a bobbing nipple in his mouth and bit down, suckling hard.

"Ow! Oh! Rockdale, stop!" she protested and wiggled as if trying to dislodge his cock and climb off his lap.

Ignoring her, he gripped her arse tighter and continued to thrust upward, determined to ram as much of his long length into her splayed softness as he possibly could.

"Didn't you come here to get fucked?" he demanded mockingly and pushed a hand between her legs to seek out her stiff button. He flicked it hard then pinched down with his thumb and middle finger.

"Owwww!" she hissed, throwing back her head.

He pinched the little nubbin again, and her sheath clamped down on his cock as she began to climax.

"Rockdale!" she cried out loudly.

The intimate clasp of her inner muscles milked his cock and brought his own hard orgasm. Rockdale hissed as he erupted inside her. His heart was racing, and belatedly, he cursed himself for not pulling out of the chit.

They stared at one another for a long awkward moment. She lifted an unsteady hand to stroke his hair, a strangely solemn look on her face.

"I'm sorry, William," she whispered.

He had a moment of puzzlement before the library door burst open, and Isabelle's mother swept in the room, screeching loud enough to wake the household - as he supposed was her intention.

A month later they were married by special license. His countess had been no virgin when she climbed on his cock, but half a dozen witnesses had seen her naked and sobbing before he could get her back into that damn wrapper. Rockdale accepted his fate with grim practicality. In the eyes of society, he had ruined the girl and must pay the price.

Their union had not an easy one. Lord and Lady Rockdale had neither mutual trust nor liking to build upon. Sex continued to be Isabelle's tool. If he complied with her wishes, he was allowed to grace her bedchamber...if not, the door was locked against him.

When his beautiful wife was happy, she had sparkled with life and vivacity. She adored guests, parties, and town life. They often hosted balls, galas, musicales, and masquerades. But to Rockdale, it became all a farce - pretend parts to be played—she, the loving wife, and he, the doting husband. When the guests were gone, and only of the two of them remained, Isabelle's spirit dimmed; she became melancholy. They became strangers once more.

He had acquaintances that were more or less happily wed, but whatever Isabelle seemed to want from him, he had not known how to give.

Caught up in contemplating the specter of his lost wife, it was a moment before Rockdale realized he was no longer alone in his study. Miss Lockhart stood just inside the open door, glaring at him. Judging from the high state of her color and the heaving of her bosom, he deduced she had discovered her change of room.

"I've been informed by a maid that my things have been moved," she said.

"Yes," he answered absently, picking up a letter lying on his desk and pretending it held his attention. "To the Rose room. It's at the end of the family hall. I'm sure you'll find it a welcome change."

Although he did not look up, he could somehow sense the gritting of her teeth.

"Why?" she asked. "Everyone will wonder why!"

He finally raised his eyes from the letter to regard her. "Good heavens, Miss Lockhart. That dress is atrocious. I do believe I would describe the color as dirt-brown."

Her mouth opened then closed. She looked down at her dress and then back up at him.

"I'm sorry if my wardrobe offends you, my lord," she replied tersely. "Regarding my room—"

"I have a seamstress coming tomorrow to see to you and Anna. Hopefully she will be able to get you into some attire that does not look to have come out of the dustbin."

"The dustbin-! My clothing is perfectly acceptable," she said, frowning at him. "You cannot buy me dresses, my lord."

"Of course I can," he said dismissively. He looked down then back up again. "I say, Miss Lockhart, are you counting silently?"

She took a deep breath before answering. "My father always said counting to ten could prevent one from speaking out thoughtlessly in anger."

"Interesting. Does it work?"

"Not today, my lord."

"Ahh, pity." He stroked his chin. "Then it's a good thing we had our lesson in submission last night, isn't it, Miss Lockhart?"

Her eyes seemed to snap sparks at him. "Oh, yes. Really splendid, my lord."

His gaze narrowed at her flippant tone. "What are the children doing at the moment? Surely you did not leave your lessons to come berate me."

"No," she ground out. "They are having their daily lie down time. As you would know if you ever visited the nursery, my lord."

"Excellent," he said. "Please close and lock the door, Miss Lockhart. I find I'm quite in the mood for you to attend to me."

"What! Are you mad?" she hissed with a quick glance over at the open study door. "It's still daytime!"

"My point exactly. I haven't seen your bare tits in good sunlight. I think I must remedy this immediately."

Her mouth opened to speak, no doubt nothing he wished to hear. "Let me put it this way," he continued. "I would find it rather enjoyable to rip that ugly dress from your body and toss it in the fire. However, I dare say, that you, on the other hand, would not find it nearly as lovely an experience."

Her face reddened, and briefly, he wondered if steam would roll from her ears.

"Counting again?" he asked lightly.

"Oooh!" She whirled away in a billow of skirts, marched to the door and quietly closed and locked the door. "Just what do you expect everyone will think with me and you in here alone?" she demanded, stomping back toward him.

"Probably that I'm a lucky bastard."

She blew out a long-suffering sigh. "You truly wish for me to disrobe in here?"

He gestured impatiently. "Yes, yes, now get to it. At this rate, it will be midnight before you get a button unfastened."

She undid three buttons down the front of her high-necked dress and paused, frowning. "Someone could peek in one of these windows and see!"

"For God's sake woman, that damn gardener Willoughby knows better than to peep in any windows." Rockdale rolled his eyes heavenward. Of all the maidens in England to debauch, trust him to pick the most maddening one in the whole country.

Chapter Six

Fuming, Eliza went back to unbuttoning, and the earl buried his head in his hands. She heard him mumbling something bizarre about "wives who wouldn't keep their clothes on and governesses who wouldn't take theirs off."

She sniffed in reproach and laid her perfectly acceptable brown dress over a chair. "It's not proper to be prancing around undressed during the day."

"It's good I don't have anything proper in mind then, isn't it?" he returned snidely.

"I'd like to properly beat you black and blue," she muttered under her breath, unlacing her stays and wiggling out of them.

The earl frowned. "What was that?"

"Nothing." She shoved down her petticoat and drawers, adding them to the pile atop her dress.

"You can leave on your stockings and shoes," he said.

"Thoughtful of you." She jerked her shift over her head and tossed it with the rest. "Do you want my hair down?" she asked crossly, feeling her entire body flush under his intent perusal.

"No, it will not be necessary." He gestured by his side. "If you would be so kind, Miss Lockhart."

Rockdale might have been asking her to pour his tea, and she fought back the strange urge to giggle. With a small huff, she walked over to him with as much dignity as she could muster parading around naked before a peer of the realm.

Damn this bosom of mine, she cursed, as it seemed to jiggle and bounce far too much for such a short distance. She knelt down near his chair, positioning herself as he had instructed, back arched and hands on her knees.

The arrogant man stared down at her silently for a few moments, nodded in apparent satisfaction, then without another word, went to work sorting through some correspondence.

What the devil! Eliza bit back her indignation with difficulty. Why did the blasted man demand she quickly remove her clothing and then do nothing? The big bully. It probably had something to do with the rubbish he had spouted about submission.

She sighed. At least her view out the large windows was enjoyable. The estate gardens were lush and beautifully landscaped, obviously tended by a loving hand. She had a mental picture of Willoughby suddenly popping up from behind a bush to peer at her nakedness through the window.

Lost in thought for moment, she realized the earl had spoken to her.

"Eliza," he said again impatiently. "Stand up." He offered her a hand, and she took it, rising to her feet.

Rockdale moved his chair back a bit from the desk and tugged her hand until she stood between his legs.

"Sit here on my desk in front of me," he said.

She eyed the desk dubiously but allowed him to assist her up on the large wooden desk. She shivered as her bottom made contact with the cold surface. It simply wasn't fair that he should be fully dressed while she was forced to be naked.

He scooted his chair up close in front of her, wicked smile on his face. "My little flower," he murmured, running his hands up her bare legs.

"W-why would you say that?" she asked, trying to keep her voice even and light.

One corner of his mouth turned up. "You still have Anna's wildflower tucked behind your ear."

"Oh? Well, how silly of me," she said, nervously tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. This must be how a lamb felt facing a hungry wolf, she thought and swallowed hard. His intent gaze seemed almost predatory.

He laid a hand on each of her knees. "Time to spread your petals open wide for me, little flower. I want to see all your hidden secrets."

"It's hardly secret now," she muttered but didn't resist as he slowly drew her knees wide apart.

"Now this is something every man should have on his desk," Rockdale said with a wicked smirk, very gently drawing a finger over the sensitive mound between her legs.

His light caresses ignited fiery tingles along her spine, and she squirmed. Why, oh why, did his touch have to affect her this way? He had barely laid his hands upon her and already she felt herself becoming aroused.

"I could lay you back and feast for hours, you know," he said huskily, meeting her uncertain gaze. "Would you like that, Eliza?"

Feast? Her struggled for a moment to understand what he meant, then with a rush, she remembered the way he had used his tongue and mouth between her legs. A streak of heat went straight to her groin. She wet her lips and shifted uneasily.

"You shouldn't say such things!" she said, looking away desperately from the molten heat in his dark eyes.

"Does that mean you wouldn't enjoy it?" he mocked.

Biting her lip, she remained silent and tensed in expectation of his immediate invasion of her intimate areas. However, the earl continued his maddening light strokes, moving on to explore her inner thighs then trailing lower.

"AhhHH!" she squeaked as his fingers discovered a ticklish spot. She had never given a thought to the skin behind her knees, but now, as he gently massaged and prodded with his fingers, the area was suddenly almost unbearable erotic.

Her head fell back as she found herself wishing he would touch her between her legs again, but deeper. Touch her where she was getting so very wet...

Rockdale slid his hands slowly back up over her thighs and upward over her stomach and ribs. His hands found the large mounds of her breasts, covering and fondling, cupping and squeezing the sensitive flesh.

"Are you ready for your second lesson, Miss Lockhart?" he asked.

She found it hard to concentrate as his fingers moved to her nipples, gently pinching and plucking. "What?" she asked breathlessly. "Lesson? Oh, yes, I suppose so."

"I want to teach you some different ways to experience and give sexual pleasure."

Her breathing began to come faster as Rockdale continued to play with her breasts. "D-Different?" she managed to say.

The earl rose up slightly and leaned forward to rub his cheek against the curve of her bosom. Gooseflesh erupted all over her body at the not at all unpleasant rasp of his slightly prickly chin and the gust of his warm breath as he chuckled against her skin.

"There's so much I want to do to you, darling," he murmured. "And teach you." He thumbed over one hard nipple. "Does it feel good to you when I touch your tits like this?"

Her eyes widened. Surely he didn't expect for her to discuss this sort of thing with him! "Well, I—I can't..."

"You can," he replied sternly. "What about this?" His tongue flicked her nipple before drawing the hard tip into his hot mouth and sucking.

"Mmm...," Eliza moaned softly.

Her nipple slid wetly from his mouth, and he laved it with his tongue. He paused in his ministrations and looked up. "Feel good?"

The man was pure evil, she decided shakily. "Yes," she whispered.

He shifted to suckle at the other breast, and her breath caught in her throat as his fingers pinched at her other nipple while he sucked.

He drew back. "Touch your tits for me."

"W-w-what?" she asked, shocked.

He took her hand and laid it over one breast. "Go on," he coaxed.

She desperately wanted to say "no!" or "I can't!" But somehow with his dark eyes compelling her, she squeezed the soft mound.

"Both hands," he said hoarsely.

And she did as he said, holding both her breasts and kneading; her fingers automatically went to her nipples, pulling and pinching softly as he had done.

"Oooh," she moaned breathily, watching intently with half-closed eyes as he fumbled open the fly of his pants, exposing his stiff, ruddy cock.

Rockdale stroked himself roughly, his eyes riveted to her breasts as she continued to play with her tingling nipples.

She gasped as he slid his free hand up her thigh and-finally- in between her legs. A moan burst from her lips as his fingers delved deeper.

"Christ, you're wet," he muttered.

"Yes," she urged him, "yes, please."

His fingers slid through her slick folds, and she bit her lip as his thumb found the spot where she throbbed. Her entire world narrowed down to the clever digit gliding repeatedly over her stiff nubbin. Her embarrassment, her shameful nudity, and her vulnerability were all replaced by a fervent, single-minded desire to find that ultimate peak of pleasure.

It was sinful. She was sinful. She wanted to greedily tear at his clothing until he was naked as she was. She wanted him to push her back on the desk and put his cock inside her in the broad daylight. And heaven help her but she no longer cared who might see.

He stopped suddenly, and she whimpered as he pulled her hand from her breast and pressed it down into the softness of her groin.