RendezvousWithYou Page 4

  “Thank you.”

  “You have such beautiful toes,” he praised. “Long and lovely and perfectly formed. And your feet.” He slowly brushed his fingers over the bottom of her foot. “Do you know in some oriental countries, high-born women have their feet bound at a young age to slow their growth? Sometimes their feet grow to no more than three inches.”

  “Really?” She tilted her head, curiosity brightening her eyes. “How do they run and play?”

  “They don’t,” Ian said. “For a high-born woman of the Far East, to have big feet is to be equated with being a peasant.” He held up one of her feet. “You would certainly be thought of as such if anyone saw these.”

  “Then my ‘big’ feet will have to be our secret, won’t they? Unless you have fantasies of tupping a low-born woman.”

  “Not at the moment. Let’s see, where to begin?” Holding her right leg, he danced the fingers of his other hand over the top of her big toe. “Oranges and lemons, say the Bells of St. Clements,” he chanted and kissed her toe.

  She laughed. “You’re being silly again.”

  He tweaked the next toe and kissed it. “And I’m not even wearing a puce coat. Someone should really say something to that man’s valet. Mine would never let me leave the house in something so ridiculous. And a ruffled shirt? No one wears ruffles anymore.”

  “Go on.” She wiggled the objects of his adoration.

  “You owe me five farthings, say the bells of St. Martin’s. Though I think you’re going to get far more than five farthings worth of pleasure by the time we’re finished.”

  “I’ll hold you to that. But five farthings would only buy one stocking.”

  “Five farthings, five toes. How very convenient.” Ian took the next toe in his mouth and lovingly suckled it. “Clean feet. Thank you for that, sweet Bella. You’re obviously not a peasant on that score.”

  “Do go on with your recitation.” She gave a royal nod. “I do love to hear you recite.”

  “When will you pay me, say the bells of Old Bailey.” He pulled one of her stockings from around her neck and twirled it over his head.

  “I’ll have you in the dock if you tear that,” she warned. “What will my maid say if I come home with torn stockings? She’ll think I’ve been up to something naughty.”

  “And so you have,” he agreed, returning the stocking to her lovely neck. “She and my valet will have to get together and compare notes. When I grow rich, say the Bells of Shoreditch.”

  “And you are so very, very rich,” she said. “Or so it’s said. Worth far more than five farthings.”

  “You may be certain of that. Where was I? Ah, yes. When will that be, say the bells of Stephney. I do not know, says the great bell of Bow.”

  “Stop!”

  He blinked. “What’s amiss, my lady?”

  She pouted. “You forgot to kiss my fourth toe.”

  He struck his chest with a quickly made fist. “What was I thinking? Poor little fourth toe.” He covered it in a series of kisses. “Wonderful fourth toe! Divine fourth toe! Delicious fourth toe! How could I have forgotten you?”

  “Now you are being too silly,” she chided through her laughter. “And we’re not exactly fucking, are we?”

  “Just wait, my Bella. And finally, we have the last toe. At least on this foot,” he said, kissing the tiny digit. “I’d rather not recite the line about heads being chopped off. Too messy and not at all romantic.”

  “But I rather like the line about a candle lighting us to bed.” She turned her head to gaze at the large canopied bed in the far corner of the room. “Did you request an especially big one? It looks like it could hold at least four people.”

  “I don’t share my bed with more than one person at a time. But I thought we would need the extra room for our more creative trysting maneuvers.”

  “At least we can boast we’ve used lots of the other furniture besides the bed,” Bella pointed out. “What are you going to do to me now?”

  “This.”

  He knelt and applied his mouth to her puss once more, paying special attention to her nubbin. Licks and nips and sucks soon had her writhing in delight as he feasted on her, drinking her juices until her panting filled the room and her moans became a song. Squirming, she bucked against his mouth and screamed.

  He waited until the rising and falling of her beautiful breasts had slowed to sit back on his heels. “Happy?”

  “Completely.” Her ragged breathing and cat-turned-loose-in-the-diary smile was all the other proof he needed. He untied the stockings and ribbons and she stood, stretching her arms over head.

  “Ahhh,” she sighed and walked to the drinks table. “That was lovely, Ian. Just lovely.”

  The bouncing rhythm of her lovely ass wasn’t helping his throbbing prick. “What do you have in mind now?”

  “This.” She pivoted and brandished the paring knife from beside the fruit bowl. “I’m going to have to punish you, Ian. You’ve been very, very naughty.”

  Amazement brought him to his feet. “I have? What have I done, my sweet?”

  “You forgot to kiss my other set of toes.” Scowling, she waved the knife in a slow, tight arc. “They’re very upset. How can I possibly go home with five toes left unkissed?”

  He couldn’t keep from laughing. “Sit down and I’ll be happy to oblige you and them. I won’t even stop to tie you up unless you want me to do so.”

  She shook her head and her curls finally fell to her shoulders in a lovely golden tumble. “No. Take your pants off again, my dear sir. From the way your prick is straining against them, I daresay he’d like to come out.”

  He folded his arms. “No. You do it. Undress me.”

  “I thought you’d never ask.” Putting the knife back on the table, she kept her return journey to him as slow as she could. His jade eyes glimmered like a jungle cat awaiting its approaching prey, and only digging into her will kept her from running to him and ripping the clothes from his body. By heaven, how could a man keep her hungering for him when he had just eaten her to a screaming finish? She would be sorry to see the evening end.

  She stopped before him and stripped him of his remaining clothing, tossing it around the floor. His cock stood hard and quivering and a low feral growl started in his throat when she danced her fingers along his length.

  “Such a handsome prick,” she said, taking it in her hand while running her other hand over his chest, enjoying again the sculpted contours and planes.

  “If your intention is to punish me, you’ve made a good start,” he rasped.

  “Good,” she said, brushing her lips against his nipples, swirling her tongue over them while her hand moved up and down his prick. “I’d almost forgotten to kiss your nipples. You may have to punish me later.”

  “I’ll give it my best thought,” he said, leveling a look at her through half-closed eyelids. “Where are you going to tie me up?”

  “Let’s see.” Bella glanced around the room, keeping her hand on his prick. “I could tie you to the same chair we just used.”

  “Can’t you be more original than that?”

  “But we shouldn’t use the upholstered ones. Allesandro would be most upset if your seed left a stain on them.”

  “Then for pity’s sake,” Ian begged. “Think of something quick or you’re going to have to drink me dry again.”

  “Oh come now,” she chided. “We’ve been tupping away like crazy all evening. You must have better control of your seed than that.”

  “What if I say I want to bury my prick to its hilt in your sweet, hot puss until all my seed explodes inside you and I cry out your name?”

  His words made Bella’s decision for her. “The bed,” she ordered. “Go lie on the bed. I don’t suppose I’ll need to use the knife to get you to hurry.”

  In answer, he ran to the bed and stretched out, propping himself against the pillows. “Is this how you want me, sweet Bella?”

  “Not quite.” Retrieving his stockings fr
om the floor, she joined him and allowed herself another moment to give his body a long, appreciative stare. “It should be a crime for a man to have a body such as yours, Ian.”

  “I make no apologies for my gifts from the Almighty,” he said. “But my cock grows impatient for you, Bella. Do your worst or your best. You have me at your mercy.”

  “Indeed I do.” She quickly tied his arms to the posters behind his head and climbed on the bed to take his ballocks in her hands.

  ‘“They’re so smooth,” she praised. “It’s like they were designed for my touch.” She bent her head to kiss them and run her tongue over the surface.

  To her delight, he began to squirm. “That feels extraordinarily good,” he gasped. “Your tongue is quite talented.”

  “It’s nothing compared to my mouth,” she boasted.

  “Prove it,” he ordered.

  “Oh, not yet. Not while I have you where I want you.” She slid her hand to the base of his prick and slowly moved up to the head only to descend his length a second time. “Do you like that?” She moved a little faster.

  “Witch!” He accused, his chest rising and falling with her strokes. “You know I do.”

  “Shall I continue to stroke you until your seed rises or—”

  He shook his head. “I’d rather be inside you. And you’d better hurry.”

  “Feeling eager, are we?”

  “No, I’m in agony. Please, Bella. Come to me now.”

  Affection for this delightful man surged through her and she straddled him. Her tongue traced the edge of his lips before she hovered her mouth over his.

  “I do think that kissing is one of the finest parts of making love,” she whispered. “Don’t you think so?”

  “I seem to recall we spent a quarter of an hour just kissing when I bedded you this afternoon in those private rooms off St. James.” He brushed his lips over her forehead and down her eyes before finding her mouth.

  “And there were so many other parts of me you kissed later,” she sighed. “I can hardly wait for you to kiss them again.”

  “Yes.” Desire darkened his eyes. “But you are quite right, my wicked, lovely Bella. The mouth is the gateway to all other pleasures. Now would you please prove to me just how talented your mouth is?”

  “It would be my pleasure.”

  “Wait! You’re not wearing my shirt!”

  “Oh goodness! We mustn’t forget that!” She scrambled to retrieve it from the floor and slid her arms inside the sleeves. The fine cambric settled over her like silk and she pivoted, spreading her arms wide. “How do I look?”

  “Like a goddess,” he said softly. “Come back to me now.”

  She returned to the end of the bed and crawled forward, opened her mouth and gently sucked his throbbing prick. Slowly, she pressed her mouth down his length, stopping to flick her tongue along the head and tiny opening.

  “Ahhh.” Ian’s sigh of satisfaction filled her ears. “Do that again if you don’t mind…please.”

  “In a minute.” Taking his prick, she nibbled the ridge of tissue surrounding the crown before running the tip of her tongue around it and he squirmed beneath her.

  “Good God,” he whispered.

  “What were you saying earlier about praising the Lord for the creation of the human body?” She took his prick in her mouth again, balancing it in one hand while she leisurely sucked the head.

  “I think I’m past praying,” he gasped. “Unless it’s to hold on as long as I can.”

  She grinned at him. “Do you want me to go on using my mouth on you? Do you want to release your seed in it?”

  “No. I want you to put my prick in your puss and so I can release my seed there. Lord, Bella, but I need to be inside you now. I’ll let you drink me on another occasion but, please, put me inside you. I need to feel you about me.”

  Voices in the hallway halted her actions and Bella canted her head at the door. “Who was that?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Ian said. “Come to me, Bella. Please.”

  She crawled forward again, her gaze fastened on him, and never had a man looked more desirable. She put one knee on either side of his hips and braced herself with one hand while with the other she gently took his prick and guided it inside her. “Ahhh,” she sighed. “You feel so good, Ian.”

  “Move, Bella,” he whispered. “Slide up and down me. I want to feel myself slipping in and out of you. You have the most beautiful puss, did you know that? Hot and tight and sweet and wet like it’s just been waiting for me.”

  “And so it has, my Ian. And so it has.”

  Setting her hips in motion, she moved back and forth so Ian’s prick would be almost out before she slid down him once more, his cock throbbing deep inside her. She picked up her rhythm, her heart lurching to a blinding speed as a roar started in her ears.

  And all the while his expression was wild and hungry, his gaze never leaving hers. They rocked together until they were one person, one soul, and there was no world outside the wide bed.

  Then the world shattered about her, sending her over the edge into the abyss, and she collapsed against him, listening to the steady thumping of his heart.

  “You are without a doubt a magnificent lover,” she said at last.

  “I’m glad you think so,” he panted. “Sweet Jesu, that was incredible.”

  “Your pleasure is my desire.”

  She sat up and untied him before settling herself against his shoulder, still holding his stockings. He wrapped his arms around her, letting one hand creep down her back to playfully swat her ass. “You are a complete minx, sweet Bella. Did you know that?”

  “If my stockings could talk, I’d be the most notorious woman in London.”

  “After tonight, you’re well on your way,” he agreed, still playing with her ass. “But your reputation is safe with me. It’s a good thing you wore a wig, you know. If you had entered the room without it, your identity would have been known immediately. No other woman in London has hair the color of spun gold.”

  “And the masks certainly helped.” She yawned. “That nose of yours would have given you away instantly.”

  “We’d be notorious if we were recognized,” he predicted. “Doomed. Ruined. Reputations shattered beyond all repair. Good thing we’re in this together, for at least for now, our mutual rendezvous will be kept secret.”

  She snuggled closer against him. “Let us rest assured Allesandro will ensure our identities well-guarded. His ability to keep all kinds of secrets has guaranteed his success within the ton. I once heard he—”

  A bell rang outside their door, accompanied by the pealing of a much larger one outside the house. Sitting up, they exchanged glances and began counting the toiling of the larger bell, ringing down the hour. Ten. Eleven. Twelve.

  “Midnight,” Bella pronounced.

  “Lord,” Ian exclaimed. “Do you suppose we’ve won?”

  A brisk tattoo of knuckles sounded on the other side of the door. Ian pulled on his breeches and started across the room.

  “Wait!” she cried, scrambling under the covers. “Our masks!”

  “Good thinking, my girl.” Grabbing them from the table, he brought hers to her and, holding his in place, went to open the door. A liveried servant, holding a large candle aloft, stood in the hallway. Even the near darkness covering him could not hide his broad grin.

  “Begging your pardon, sir, my lady,” he said. “As it is midnight, I am sent by your host to ask you to join the rest of the guests in the drawing room.”

  Keeping the mask flat against her face, she sat up and tried to contain her shout of victory. “You mean we’re the last couple? We’ve won?”

  The servant’s grin became a smirk and he bowed. “So it appears, my lady. Come and see.”

  He stepped away and Ian closed the door just as she threw back the covers and jumped from the bed. “We’ve won!” she crowed. “We’ve won!”

  “Good thing he didn’t come until we were finished,” Ian
said, returning to the bed, gathering the rest of his clothing on the way. “We would have given him an apoplexy if he’d come any sooner.”

  “And what a dreadful way to end the evening,” she agreed, hastily pulling on her clothing. Taking some pins, a small comb and brush from her reticule, she tided her hair before putting on her wig and returning the ribbons to their masks.

  When Ian had finished dressing, she approached him, masks in hand, and asked, “How do I look?”

  He chuckled. “Certainly not like a woman who spent her whole evening fucking away like mad.”

  She gave him a dowager’s haughty stare. “You are very coarse, sir!”

  He grinned. “And you loved every minute of it. But let’s not waste time sparring. Let’s go gloat in our victory and the prize won.”

  She held out her mask. “Would you do the honors for me?”

  “Assuredly.” He carefully placed the mask on her face and tied the ribbons. “Such a shame to hide such beauty,” he murmured. “But we can’t have anyone knowing who you are. Will you put my mask on me?”

  Bella cocked her head. “But you’re so tall. I would need a chair to do that and I wouldn’t want to hurt the furniture by standing on it.”

  He laughed. “We don’t need to risk a shilling of our winnings by doing that. I’ll sit in that chair over there while you tie on my mask.”

  Bella curtsied. “Truly you are a man of great cleverness. Sit and it shall be so.”

  Once his mask was secured, Ian rose and offered her his arm. “Then come, madam. Let’s to collect the title and the purse.”

  A burst of applause greeted them as they entered the candlelit room. Her hand in his, Bella sank into a deep curtsy while he bowed to the crowd.

  “Well done,” Allesandro praised. “Dare we ask how many times the deed was done? And where?”

  “I don’t think I can count that high,” Bella said demurely and the guests laughed.

  “Then we must declare that this gentleman, by the rules of the night, ‘The Best Lover in London’,” Allesandro said and the crowd applauded once more.