Miss Cameron's Fall from Grace. Helen Dickson
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‘but I am not who you think I am and I really must go.’
A half-frown, half-smile crossed his face. ‘I know not where your duties call you, sweet Delphine, but they can wait. At this moment—’ Delphine saw the hard, flint-like gleam in his eyes ‘—I must have you.’
His arms scooped her up and, in a single lunge, they were on the bed. The heady scent of her gentle perfume, mingled with the essence of pure woman, filled Stephen’s head and warmed his blood. The heat of his hunger spread with eager bounds through his loins.
Delphine started violently as her bare thigh brushed his and she felt the scorching heat of his flesh. She rolled away from him and came to her feet on the far side of the bed, but was halted in her intended flight when he rolled after her, shot out his arm and with a deep and throaty laugh jerked her back on to the bed. Her naked breasts were crushed against his chest as he bore down on her, his lips upon her neck insistent, his breathing uneven. With definite panic rising, she pushed hard and for a moment was free of him.
‘Sir, please,’ she begged with quiet desperation, managing to keep her voice from betraying her alarm. ‘Let me go for just a moment. There will be plenty of time later,’ she cajoled in the softest tones. ‘I shall return as soon I am able.’
‘Don’t be a tease.’ His eyes were dark and heavy-lidded with desire and he smiled with wicked enticement as he divested her of her drawers. ‘If this is a game you play, Delphine, I ask you to stop it now. Your maidenly blushes are a conceit. I want you—why else would you be here?’
Smothering a shocked gasp, again she moved to the side of the bed, and again he caught her round the waist with a strength that did not surprise her. Though she shoved at his hands, she could not escape; purposefully he drew her toward him. Kneeling on the mattress, he lowered her to its softness and, before she could move, his arms came down like sinewy pillars on either side of her, trapping her between them. He lowered his weight until he lay upon her, pinning her beneath him; it seemed that every move she made only abetted his unswerving seduction. She could no longer escape that long blade of passion that seared her thighs and made her quake. Raising his head, he stared down into her eyes and smiled slowly.
‘I will have you now, Delphine. I will pay you your dues when the sun comes up, so do not disappoint me and I shall make it worth your while.’
‘Oh,’ she gasped, feeling his hardness searching, probing; feeling the heat of his maleness. ‘What am I doing?’
He chuckled against her throat. ‘If you don’t know, sweetheart, who am I to tell you? You are a whore, my pet, and tonight you are mine.’
Delphine heaved beneath him, straining against the broad expanse of his chest, but his strength overpowered her struggles. It was too late now, he couldn’t draw back, not now, not with that urgent need, swollen and throbbing, demanding release.
A burning pain exploded in her loins and his face pressed harder against hers. Tears filled her eyes and she tasted blood as she bit her own cheek. Then his hungering mouth found her lips and he kissed her long and deep. The pain started to subside as he began to move within her, savouring each passing moment of pleasure.
With her eyes closed tight, Delphine lay unresponsive. She resolved that she would resist any intrusion of physical delight from anything his body would do to her. If she remained still, he could not reach her. His long-starved passion grew; he could no longer control himself. She was unaware how long it lasted, but when he pulled away from her she turned, pulling the covers over herself, covering her used body from his gaze.
Chapter Two
The second time he took her, a strange, new feeling began to bloom within her, a feeling she could neither quench nor deny. Delphine’s world began to tear itself free of all restraint. By now she realised her mistake in coming to his room, realised that he took her for a whore, but feeling the entire force of his will-power surrounding her, tempting her to do what she should not, she could not leave him.
He kissed her throat and murmured soft words. He touched her breasts with his fingertips, exploring their shape. Lightly, gently, and with the greatest of care, he squeezed her nipples until they began to throb and swell, and tiny threads of warmth began to radiate from them, spreading, growing, melting through her. The touch of his hands on her flesh destroyed her self-control; the heat of his kiss seared her lips, devastating her senses, rousing sensations that flamed through her body. She clung to him as she fought to cling to her sanity, trying to fight emotion with reason, but common sense eluded her.
Fear was gone now, gone completely, and she moaned softly as his hands continued their sweet torture. When he entered her she felt something new, something incredible, and she began to move as he moved, wrapping her legs around his, lifting her thighs and catching his hair in her hands, pulling it, throwing her head from side to side as the fountain welled within and began to brim.
To feel this way, to want this stranger with a hunger she could not believe, sapped all sense of honour. The desire that flared between them was so unexpected that it was in itself a seduction. One minute she was a tiger, the next a kitten, clawing, purring as the beauty became unbearable and she was lost, soaring into an oblivion that loomed ahead, awaiting with shuddering intensity. It came closer; he filled her fully and she held him inside her and clasped him and caressed him. She was completely absorbed, and through the veil of that absorption, a speck of light appeared, sharp as a star in a midnight sky. As it grew, she knew it to be something within herself, something that distinguished these moments of intimacy from everything that had gone before; she knew that she was linked to this man by something magical they both possessed—he to express, she to receive.
She was stunned by these thoughts at first, then fearful of what they could mean to her future; at that instant, as if he sensed the change in her, he opened his eyes and the pinpoints of fire in their depths linked with the light shining from hers.
‘What are you? Are you some kind of sorceress, or are you an angel, that you can make me feel this way?’
Again he claimed her lips and she could not have drawn away had her life depended on it. Then she felt a bliss so bright, so blazing, she knew she couldn’t possibly endure it, not a moment more. He shuddered and she was torn into a thousand shimmering shreds and cast into the abyss of ecstasy.
Dear Lord, what was happening to her—the helper, the do-gooder? Like some dreadful, insidious disease, the low life of the brothel had begun to infect her with its dark promise. Gone was the shining simplicity of her father’s house and the dignity and elegance of her mother’s world. What she felt now was every rotting desire that drove those who had anything to do with Mrs Cox’s bordello. Having been bedded by a complete stranger, having responded wantonly to his demands made her no better than they were.
He fell asleep with Delphine in his arms. Forgetful for the moment of how the situation had come about, the feel of him so firm and strong infused her with a sense of security. Its curious comfort made her spirit dissolve like ice in a noonday haze. It was the first time any person had ever held her and the unexpected need of a lonely girl to be held broke loose and mingled with untold fears about her empty future. They found their outlet in tears.
She wept with the stranger’s arms fast around her, breathing in the essence of him, and in so doing—even though she did not know this man, her only knowledge of him carnal—she sensed part of his spirit was empty, lonely and bereft, because, like her, he, too, had no one.
Though there was no strength left in her limbs, she sought to hold fast to the moment lest she lose some portion of it to the oncoming demands of sleep. But her eyelids were heavy, and she felt herself drifting away.
Stephen opened his eyes and quietly studied the face on the pillow beside his own, taking pleasure and becoming lost in the exciting beauty of her. Long sooty lashes fanned flawless skin, her mouth softly pink and tempting. A wealth of hair the colour of ripe chestnuts, streaked with red and a deep burnished gold, spread over her shoulders and breasts, dewy