7. Servicing a Young Lady

CHAPTER 7

SERVICING A YOUNG LADY

T he moment Nicoletta turned to face the bed was when Donald knew that what she was expecting him to do and what he intended to do were entirely different.

That she would expect him to take her over the edge of the bed bothered him. Even upon witnessing the perfect shape of the globes of her bottom as she bent, upon seeing her upturned quim glistening in the morning light streaming in from the nearby window, he knew he had to redirect her expectations.

Yes, it would have been easy to simply use his hands to spread her legs apart, to slide his engorged manhood along her wet folds, grip her hips in his hands, and to finally thrust himself into her. Easy and oh, so tempting.

He didn’t know why he thought it wrong. Perhaps it was the memory of seeing his father making love to his mother late one night, the window in her bedchamber left open so he was able to watch from the edge of the drapes covering his window. He had discovered soon after they had moved into Ellsworth Park that he could see her from his bedchamber, one floor above hers and in an adjacent wing.

Reminded of how his father had claimed his wife of only a few months that morning, of how he had flipped back the bed linens and crawled atop her, of how she had spread her legs in invitation as his father kissed his way down her body until his head was between her thighs, Donald knew exactly how he wished to make love for the first time with Nicoletta.

He reached out and slid his hands down the sides of her torso and hips, shocked at feeling the softness of her skin. Lowering his head, he placed a kiss at the base of her spine even as he slid one hand back up and over one of her breasts.

The way her body shuddered beneath his touch had him realizing his move was entirely unexpected. He resisted the urge to pinch her engorged nipple between his thumb and forefinger, instead allowing it to slide between the length of his fingers until he heard her whimper.

Smoothing his hand back down the front of her body, he pulled her up until her back was pressed to the front of his. He guided her, turning her around until she faced him. “Lie back, my sweet,” he whispered, nudging her until her knees were forced to bend at the edge of the bed.

Her eyes wide, Nicoletta scrambled backwards until she was in the middle of the mattress. “What...?”

“Shh,” he whispered, crawling onto the bed until he hovered over her. His turgid manhood seemed to understand what to do even if he wasn’t exactly sure. “Spread your legs for me.”

She did his bidding, and from there, Donald knew exactly what to do. As he leaned down to kiss her lips, he lowered his hips to hers. He had to break off the kiss in order to take a labored breath. The tip of his manhood had already found her entrance, the warm wetness inviting him to press further into her.

“Hurry,” she breathed, lifting her hips in invitation.

He remembered the image of what his father had done. “Patience, my sweet,” he murmured. He shimmied down the length of her torso, his lips trailing kisses along her lemon- scented skin until he reached the dark curls surrounding her wet folds. Not sure exactly what to do, he reached out with the tip of his tongue and flicked it across her quim.

Her entire body seemed to buck in response, her inhalation so sudden, he nearly laughed with relief. Trying again, he soon found what had her reacting.

Gripping the globes of her bottom with this hands, he pressed harder with his tongue, not allowing her to escape the ministrations of the rough-textured surface against her most private place. Her mewls and soft cries urged him on until he understood what he was touching with his tongue. He blew on the swollen bud and then captured it in a kiss, which seemed to send her into a pleasant spasm, for he could feel her body react in his hold and hear her muffled cries.

“Hurry,” she said again, her voice nearly breathless.

He didn’t need to be told twice. He moved up her body, once again trailing kisses until the tip of his manhood was at her entrance. A timid push followed by a more determined thrust had his manhood buried as far as possible. Her gasp and raised chest had his eyes rounding.

Could anything be more lovely than her breasts rising to meet his chest? More lovely than the way her raven hair splayed out over the white linen covering the pillow? More lovely than her kiss-reddened lips saying his name on a whisper?

“Are you all right?” he asked, not daring to move lest he hurt her.

She nodded in the pillow.

The need to retreat and thrust into her had him trying it once. The sensation he felt was so pleasurable, he did it again and again until he felt as if he was about to explode. He might have held on a moment or two longer, but her hands were sliding down his sides, her fingers finally gripping his buttocks in an effort to hold on as he increased his rhythm.

The sudden release had him ceasing his movements. Had him hovering atop her until he knew he had spilt his seed in her. All at once, any bit of energy he thought he had possessed left his body, and he slumped down. At the last moment, he knew enough to reach out with a hand to stop his downward fall onto her. He had a thought to roll off of her and onto the bed, but her arms were latched around his back, clinging to him.

He chuckled softly when he finally settled his head next to hers on the pillow. Kissing her cheek, he waited a few seconds in an effort to regain control of his breathing before attempting to speak.

“ Grazie ,” was all he could think to say.

She turned her head and regarded him with wide eyes. “For a moment, I thought you were in pain,” she whispered.

He scoffed softly. “I assure you I was not.” His brows furrowed. “What about you?” Lifting himself onto an elbow, he saw her wince when he pulled his shrinking manhood from her body, and with it, the rest of him.

She immediately pulled her legs together, bending her knees slightly. “It did not hurt,” she murmured, although there was uncertainty in her voice.

“I don’t think it’s supposed to,” he countered. He leaned over and kissed her lips. “It’s supposed to be... pleasant,” he stammered.

Grinning, she lifted his free hand to place it atop her belly, leaving one of her hands on top of it. She guided it so the flats of his fingers smoothed over the soft skin, and when he understood what she wanted him to do, he began rubbing soft circles over her heated skin.

She inhaled softly, her eyes closing. When he leaned over to nibble one of her nipples, her eyes flew open and her hands moved to hold the sides of his head. “It’s time I dress,” she whispered.

“I’ll help you to the bath,” he whispered, thinking she would wish to wash away the evidence of him from her skin.

Before she could respond, he was off the bed and moving to lift her into his arms.

“I can walk,” she whispered in complaint.

“But I can carry you,” he countered, dropping his lips to her forehead. He took her back to the bathing chamber and lowered her into the tepid water.

She hissed when she was settled onto the bottom of the tub. “I’d rather you didn’t watch me,” she murmured, her arms wrapping around her bent knees.

For a moment, Donald thought to argue with her—she had been perfectly fine with him seeing her naked in the light of day only a few minutes ago—but he thought it best to leave her to her ablutions. “I’ll go get dressed,” he replied. “But I’ll help you out of the tub when you’re done. Please don’t try to step out of it by yourself. I don’t want you to slip and fall.”

At this, she looked up at him for the first time since he had placed her in the water. “If you can arrange my hair, I shall let go my lady’s maid and hire you instead,” she teased.

He chuckled. “Minx,” he accused before he made his way back toward the bed to retrieve his clothes.

An entire hour passed before Nicoletta was out of the tub, dried off, gowned, and sitting at her dressing table with her lady’s maid stabbing pins into her hair.

During that time, Donald waited patiently, sitting in a nearby chair while he wondered if all Italian women hosted men during their toilette . And if they did so, did they also make love to them?

It was certainly a wonderful way to start the day. His body felt recharged and lethargic all at the same time. In fact, if the young lady had been so inclined, he would have gladly made love to her again.

His gaze went to the bed, where the rumpled counterpane had been straightened enough to hide their carnal activities. Only a small bloodstain showed against the white linen beneath, proof that, like him, his first was a virgin.

First and only , he thought. He had taken her virtue. As such, he was determined to marry her. It was the honorable thing to do. He liked her. Decided he would grow to feel even more affection for her once she agreed to marry him.

His thoughts went back to last evening’s ball. Her father’s words of warning had been said in a sort of calculated dare, as if he knew Donald could be persuaded to at least attempt a courtship with Nicoletta.

Meanwhile, her aunt’s words held a different sort of warning, as if she was already convinced pursuing the conte’s daughter wouldn’t be in his best interest.

Given the woman’s relationship to someone he knew in London, Donald thought her words about her niece were odd.

Perhaps he would discover why during their excursion.

If they ever left her bedchamber.

He was about to give in to nap when she finally announced she was ready to go.

Rising from the chair, Donald offered his arm and the two took their leave of House D’Avalos.

A lthough it was nearly dark when they returned, Donald would have been happy to spend even more time with the conte’s daughter. From the moment they had entered the first shop, where she had looked for a pair of gloves but left with a flowered bonnet, until they departed a bookstore with a stack of novels and an illustrated map of the country, he found her enchanting. Charming. Flirty and fun. The concerns he had felt about what they had done earlier that morning had dissipated before they enjoyed a coffee and pastries near the water. By the time the sun was setting over the side of Mount Aetna, Donald had begun imagining how they might spend the rest of their lives together.