Ravishment On the Hilltop

The feel and heat of Arthur’s hungry mouth remained on her night after night following the ball. Alexi detected his grassy scent with each inhale, and the warmth of his touch had left a permanent imprint on her skin. She cursed her brain, which would do nothing except think about him.

She tossed and turned, not knowing how to remedy the mysterious tingling and delicious sensation between her legs.

It would be awhile before the sun peeked over the horizon, and the nearby rooster pondered whether to crow. Alexi donned her brown dress and headed to the kitchen, hoping to find stale bread for breakfast before a walk.

She stopped in her tracks when she spotted Arthur seated at the kitchen table with hot coffee and a basket of bread. He looked up from the papers, clean-shaven and handsome in his leather riding gear.

“My lord.” She curtsied nervously. “I did not realise you were breakfasting here. I shall take my leave.”

She turned to go.

“Miss Brown, come, sit. Join me,” he said, standing up and pulling out a chair. “I’m surprised to see you this early.”

“I could not sleep.” Her voice cracked.

He smiled wickedly. “Tossing and turning, thinking about me?”

“No!”

“Come now. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. Many women have fallen prey to my charm and extraordinary skills.”

“You certainly know how to charm a woman. I’m honoured to be one of your many prey. No wonder you live alone despite your stricken years.”

He laughed heartily. “If you did not fantasise about our kiss, what did you think about?”

“Nothing in particular,” she said briskly.

“You know I will not stop until I’m satisfied.”

“Fine. I thought about how you’re a thorn in my side.”

“That’s true,” he said, gazing down at her hips longingly. “I held you rather—”

“Arthur!”

“Oh, good. We’re back to Arthur,” he said cheerfully.

“Can we not discuss this?” she asked crossly.

“Discuss what?”

“What happened between us,” she said, colouring.

“What happened?”

“Why are you being such a brat?” she snapped.

He lowered his voice with a glint in his eye.

“Because I enjoy watching the colour rise in your face and your lips turn pouty. It makes me want to—”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” she said, touching her burning cheeks.

“I was going to say it makes me want to eat another piece of stale bread,” he said, reaching for the breadbasket.

Alexi slapped his hand before he could grab one.

“Ow! Is your hand made of rock?”

“I’m leaving.”

She stood up and picked up her bonnet.

“Where are you going?” he asked as he followed.

“I would be a fool to tell you.”

“You must tell me. I’m your employer,” he insisted.

“Are you now? You did not act like one at the ball.”

“Of course I did. I treated you exactly like a harlot.”

Alexi gasped, open-mouthed. Arthur laughed jovially and pulled her into his arms.

He leaned down and whispered, “If I had treated you like a harlot, I would have finished the job.”

Before she could feel the blood rush to her face, he kissed her with all his primitive needs and wants. His mouth claimed her and left her lips swollen and cherry red. He longed to consume all of her.

As he withdrew his tongue and began showering her with tender kisses, he murmured against her mouth, “I thought about you all night.”

“You did?” she asked shyly.

“Yes, every night, every day. Come to think of it, every morning, too.”

She chuckled. “What did you think about?”

“I… don’t,” he said between kisses, “think… you’d… want… to know.”

“I want to know,” she said with genuine curiosity. “I don’t know what is possible between man and woman.”

He groaned at this. “I wish I could show you. I want all of you, Alexandra.”

Claiming her mouth again, he unbuttoned the front of her dress until the heavy weight of her breast was in his hand. He stroked the peak over the cotton chemise, light as a feather. When her moans became pleas, he shifted his attention to the other breast.

“Arthur…” she entreated.

He nudged her toward the sturdy wooden table. Turning her around, he fit her backside snugly against his erection. His breathing was laboured with barely contained arousal.

He bent her over the table, one hand on her back. The drawers came down swiftly and he gathered the petticoats, baring her luscious bottom to feast on. Raising herself on her elbows, she looked over her shoulder in surprised anticipation and met Arthur’s dark eyes full of unrestrained lust.

“Sweet Lucifer, you’re so damned sweet…” he groaned, fondling and kneading her backside.

She felt his hard ridge through his breeches, rubbing and grinding against the crack of her bottom. He slipped one hand between her legs.

“Arthur… I can’t…” she said hesitantly.

His fingers gently caressed her labia, outlining the velvety soft flesh. He bent over her back and said softly, “I promise I will not take your virtue. I only want to pleasure you. Would that be all right?”

“Yes,” she breathed.

He pounced on her mouth and kissed her hungrily, grinding his enormous erection fiercely against her delicious ass.

“My god,” he exclaimed as his fingers circled the opening of her secret place. “You’re soaked, so ready,” he said, almost painfully.

His long, nimble fingers began to stroke her bud, hardening and gathering unimaginable pleasure. Alexi didn’t know how he was accomplishing this, but it was exactly what she had been craving.

Suddenly, Arthur stilled and covered her mouth with his hand, muting her moans.

The chatter of the kitchen maids grew louder as they approached, their voices ringing down the corridor. She quickly took Arthur’s hand and led him out the back entrance before the staff arrived to start their day. It would have shocked them profoundly to find their master dallying in the kitchen with his governess.

“Wait here. I’ll fetch our things,” she said, buttoning her dress and slipping back inside. She soon returned with his papers, riding hat and crop, which he promptly tossed to the ground to kiss her feverishly once more. He withdrew from her only when there were voices in the kitchen. Arthur smoothed out the wrinkles in her dress, taking care to unfold the hem. They hurried off into the darkness, maintaining a circumspect distance lest anyone spotted them together.

Alexi marched toward the hill, berating herself for allowing the rake to take such liberties. Not only had she permitted his advances, but wanted them, brazenly begging for carnal pleasure when he clearly had no intentions of marriage... at least, not to her.

“Are you well?” Arthur asked once they were safely away from the prying eyes.

“Yes,” Alexi replied, stopping to face him. “But I think it would be wise for us to maintain some distance from now on.”

“Why?” he asked.

“So what happened in the kitchen doesn’t happen again,” she replied firmly.

“What was wrong with it? You seemed to enjoy yourself,” he said with a roguish smile.

She rolled her eyes at his simple male logic and kept walking.

“You were my very first kiss all those years ago. And now this... wanton kiss,” she said, spitting out the last words as if they were distasteful.

“I’m honoured,” he murmured. “Have you had any beaus since?”

“No.”

“Good,” he said smugly.

“Any further intimate acts ought to be with my future husband. I cannot risk... losing control again,” she said, a blush staining her cheeks at the memory.

“I promise I won’t let things get out of hand. If you tell me to stop, you can trust that I will.”

She scoffed in disbelief. “I don’t believe you. You already have illegitimate children. You should go on your way and leave me be, my lord.”

“That is because no woman has ever stopped me before.”

She looked at him with frustration. What power did he have over her that a woman of six and twenty would even consider risking her virtue? He must have robbed her of all sense.

She fell into a pensive glumness. She was still reeling from their encounter while he seemed utterly unaffected. And he showed no reaction to her mention of a future husband. What existed between them was merely physical passion, she realised. The fleeting pleasure of a rake. No more, no less.

“I shall hike up the hill to watch the sunrise,” she said, quickening her pace.

“What a coincidence. So will I,” he said lightly.

“And I prefer to do it alone!” she snapped.

“As do I!” he responded with mock surprise.

Walk away, walk away! But Alexi was driven by a reckless desire to be close to him. She wanted him to finish what he’d started before. It had felt so good. How dreadful it would be if she married a dull man who knew nothing of pleasuring women.

They fell into tense silence, the air crackling with frustration on Alexi’s part.

Arthur’s silence rang louder in her ears than a church bell. Yet here she was, craving his company, willing to risk her ruin with a rake. Again, she cursed her own foolishness.

Huffing in frustration, she strode with purpose along the familiar hillside path, the pre-dawn chill nipping at her cheeks. In the muted grey light, the land and sky blended into one inky canvas. Glancing back, she saw Arthur’s tall form trailing behind, keeping his distance. Although his long legs could easily overtake her, he did not close the gap between them.

Reaching the top, Alexi sank down, hugging her knees tight against her chest. She removed her bonnet, eager for an unobstructed view as the new day emerged. Arthur arrived and settled nearby without a word, granting her this moment of solitude.

A companionable silence enveloped them as the first thin sliver of dawn crept over the horizon, glowing gold. Streaks of fiery orange heralded the approaching sunrise. Soon the heavens were awash in vivid hues—pink, purple, red—a painter’s palette welcoming the new day.

Alexi was so engrossed with watching the colours shift that she did not notice Arthur come up behind her. She allowed him to pull her back against his chest, cradling her in his arms. Hesitantly at first, then eagerly, she relaxed against his solid frame as he interlaced his fingers with hers. For now, he was the safest, warmest harbour she knew.

They sat wordlessly until the sun rose fully over the landscape.

***

Arthur’s soft lips caressed her temple, her cheek, then the sensitive skin below her ear. He removed her hairpins one by one and ran his fingers through the bunched hair until they tumbled down her back in locks.

His teeth gently scraped her earlobe as he muttered, “Tell me if you want me to stop.”

His tongue teased her senses down her neck while he pulled down on her dress until her breasts spilled into his hands. His cock twitched and hardened instantly.

“Christ… so beautiful… you are perfect…” he whispered.

With a groan, he fondled and rolled the taut nipples between his finger and thumb.

Alexi turned her head and kissed him deeply.

His hand hiked up the skirt to her hips, revealing her stockinged legs. With a groan, he caressed her upper thigh, bare to his touch.

As she sucked in her breath and moaned, his breathing became ragged. He stroked and squeezed the softest parts of her he had been craving.

His fingers cautiously approached the path leading to her most sensitive area. She groaned as her nerves awoke with delight.

He found the slit in her drawers, cupped her vulva with his hand, and drew circles around the entrance with his finger.

“You belong to me.” His voice was husky and breathless.

“Yes,” she replied, trembling with anticipation.

“Say you’re mine, Alexandra.”

“I am yours, Arthur. Wholly yours,” she whispered.

His heartbeat hastened with claiming a part of her no man had touched.

He ran his fingers over the folds of her labia and gently unwrapped her. His cock throbbed as he felt her drenched with need. Cursing and groaning with an ache of his own, he gently pressed a finger at the cusp of her opening. He almost came undone at the feel of her tender inner flesh.

“I want to be inside you. It’s excruciating,” he rasped.

The primal desire to leave his mark inside her gripped him. But he fought the urge to take all of her. As painful as it was to hold back, he couldn’t take her virtue. She wasn’t a light-skirt he could toy with. No, something inside of him had changed… enough that he began to consider something he wasn’t sure he could give—love and marriage.

Her bud was already swollen with arousal when Arthur began to caress it. He wet his fingers with her juice and returned to stroking her clitoris with a long, steady rhythm. She pressed against his hand, her moans just as potent as any aphrodisiac.

“Hell,” he swore under his breath, her carnal greed intensifying his yearning.

Her bud swelled and demanded more under his callused fingers. He lost himself in her sultry moans and the evidence of her desire soaking his fingers. With surprised delight on her countenance, she shattered in his arms, whispering his name tenderly, and forever belonging to him.



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