Chapter 20
CHAPTER 20
L ionel had risen before Cecilia, attending to the work that seemed to consume every moment that he wasn't with her.
Today was supposed to be different, a break from the castle's confines as they had planned a promenade through Kensington Park in an effort to fend off the relentless gossip that swirled around them. Cecilia had looked forward to the fresh air, the chance to walk side by side with Lionel in public for the first time, appearing as the united front they so desperately needed to be. She had spent much of the previous evening into the night planning their activities for the week ahead, eager to make the most of their time together. They had talked late into the night, her excitement about attending balls and soirées palpable, and he had fallen asleep with her voice in his ears.
But the bad weather had put a stop to their plans, and instead, Lionel had gone missing, vanishing without a word since the morning. Cecilia felt a pang of disappointment mixed with a growing sense of unease. She had enjoyed their newfound closeness and now, with him nowhere to be found, a small voice in her head wondered if he had grown tired of her already.
The rain drummed incessantly on the rooftops and windows, confining her to the castle's gloomy halls. She checked his study, expecting to find him buried in work, but it was empty. Her confusion deepened as she continued her search, her steps quickening with trepidation.
Drawn by the loud, echoing sound of falling water, she ventured down a hallway she had not explored before. Recognizing it for its neglected state, she assumed it to be the east wing that Lionel had spoken of. The castle, with its endless corridors and hidden nooks, seemed more like a labyrinth than ever. Turning a corner, she found herself walking along a colonnade overlooking a quadrangle at the heart of the castle. Tall walls and gabled rooftops loomed above, creating a sense of enclosure. The quadrangle was tiled, with a circular pond at its center. The surface of the pond was alive with crashing rainwater, dancing with each minute blow, though its surroundings were unnaturally sparse.
At the end of the colonnade, still beneath the shelter, was a rack of blades of various lengths and thicknesses. Intrigued, she approached them. According to her limited knowledge, they were well made.
Taking up one, she tried the weight, found it too heavy for her, and put it back, selecting another. This one suited her better, and she tried a few tentative thrusts.
"Toledo steel. The very finest in Europe," Lionel's voice came from behind, startling her.
Cecilia whirled with a gasp, her heart leaping. "Where have you been? I've been looking for you all afternoon!"
Lionel stood there, his head and shoulders wet; he had evidently crossed the quadrangle through the rain. He pointed to a window on the opposite side of the square, one floor up. "That is one of the castle libraries. I saw you through the window and wondered what you were about. I have not ventured to the east wing's fencing square since… well, Arthur was the one I was fencing with at the time."
Cecilia felt a rush of relief but couldn't help the slight tremor in her voice. "I thought perhaps you'd tired of my company after last night… after we were together… after I talked your ear off about balls and soirées."
Lionel chuckled as his eyes gleamed mischievously. "Tired of you? Never. But after last night, I did think a little escape was in order. You know, a man needs some time to recover his strength after such... vigorous activities."
She blushed deeply, feeling both embarrassed and indignant. "You're awful," she murmured, lightly slapping his chest. "You know I worry."
"Only a little," he admitted, his grin widening.
Cecilia looked around, seeing the area with new eyes. "So… Fencing square ? Is that what this is?"
Lionel followed her gaze with a partial shrug. "Whatever it was intended to be when it was built, Arthur and I put it to that use when I became Duke. Arthur seemed to think it was tailor-made. Quiet, spacey, good surface underfoot. I have not practiced in here since Arthur was taken from us. I did not have the heart." His eyes finally rested on the saber in her hand. "You hold that like you know the use of it."
Cecilia smiled, making to replace the blade. "You don't recall when we first met and I told you how Arthur had forced me to practice sport with him? It wasn't a jest. He taught me the rudiments. I am not exactly a swordmaster."
"Ah. I do. And you had promised me a sparring match too, if I recall correctly," Lionel put in. "So, would you care to show me your skills, madam?" he added with a graceful sweep of his hand and a distinctly roguish grin.
Cecilia eyed him, smiling. "It is not really ladylike as a hobby."
"No, but it is intensely attractive, I must say," Lionel finished, boldly.
Cecilia laughed, keeping hold of the rapier and looking up and down its length. Then, without warning, she lunged, intending to touch the point to Lionel's chest. He did not move his feet but somehow pivoted and tilted his body so that the blade sang harmlessly past. Then he placed two fingers on Cecilia's wrist and pressed gently. Cecilia found herself unable to hang onto the blade as her fingers opened involuntarily.
With a grin, Lionel snatched it out of the air and threw it up to catch it by the hilt. "Tremendous form, I must admit. Quite like Arthur."
Cecilia rubbed at her wrist, which was not sore but felt as though it should be.
"How on earth did you do that?" she gasped.
"Your brother never taught you that?" Lionel tutted, reversing the blade and offering it to her, hilt first, "try again."
Cecilia did. The rain slowed as she demonstrated the skills that Arthur had taught her. Skills that Lionel was certainly impressed by. Sweat darkened her hair as he watched and gave her tips, taking up a blade himself and sparring with her, though slowly to accommodate his easily fatigued leg. Cecilia found the exercise exciting in its novelty. But there was also something intensely erotic about engaging in mock-combat with a man who was her lover.
When their sparring drifted from the sheltered colonnade to the open square, the ground became treacherous. Lionel slipped and Cecilia could not help but laugh at the expression of comical surprise on his face as his balance wavered. He recovered and pulled a face at her barely concealed laughter. Then he came at her with renewed vigor, making her back up towards the pond. He gave a wicked grin as she realized how close she was to the water, deftly stepping aside.
At that moment, a wave of dizziness swept through her. A riposte went awry as a result and she stumbled into Lionel. He dropped his blade as he caught her faltering body.
"Are you well?" he asked, suddenly concerned, "perhaps this was not such a good idea after all."
"I am, I think," Cecilia breathed slowly.
The dizzy spell had passed as quickly as it had appeared, leaving her slightly queasy. Paradoxically, she also felt suddenly ravenous for strawberries, an image of the fruit popping into her mind without warning. She frowned. To feel queasy in your stomach and hungry at the same time was a peculiar combination. She looked into Lionel's eyes and was lost, as she always was when he held her in his arms.
"It is nothing," she repeated, softly, "and no exertion is too much if this is how it ends."
Lionel smiled. The embrace which had been purely to hold her onto her feet became something more. His arms were strong about her, his hands caressing and stroking her back. His lips found hers and the heat of them ignited a fire within Cecilia. She allowed her body to go limp in his arms, something she liked to do simply to experience his strength, to let those steely muscles carry her.
But this time, the embrace came after their fencing exertions. Cecilia felt the tremble in Lionel's right leg where it was pressed against her. She opened her eyes just as his leg gave way. Lionel tried to arrest their fall but the rain-slick floor was too treacherous. He slipped and twisted and both of them went into the pond.
The warmth of the fire was heavenly against Cecilia's goose-pimpled skin. She lay on a luxuriously soft, deep rug before the hearth in the library. The curtains were drawn and the fire provided the room's only light. She lay face down, completely bare, still glistening damply from the escapade in the pond. At a sound, she looked over her shoulder as Lionel entered the room in only his breeches, carrying a tray with two, steaming goblets and a small, ceramic pot.
"Two hot possets to warm us after our drenching," he began, putting the tray on a table beside the rug, "with extra honey if you would care for it."
Cecilia reached up for a goblet, tasted it, then picked up the honey. As she did, she exposed her breasts and bare stomach to Lionel. He watched her unashamed, his own Herculean physique on display. She dipped her finger in the honey and tasted it, instantly closing her eyes in sheer delight.
"This is heavenly. I will be happy with this alone," she sighed happily.
Lionel got down on the floor beside her with difficulty, stretching out his legs as he lay on his back.
"You should rest. Do not exert yourself any further," Cecilia told him.
"Faith, am I to be chided for this again," he chuckled lightly, referring to Cecilia's earlier hammering at him for pushing himself too far during their fencing session, when he ought to have been resting.
Noting the guilt in his voice, she scuttled over to him. "You know I am only looking out for your health," she pouted, before crossing her arms. "Besides, I cannot be giving you massages if you will squander all of my good work in an hour of hopelessly entertaining me. You ought to rest for your muscles to settle so they can work properly."
"Is that my treat then? Free massages?" Lionel laughed.
Cecilia nodded vigorously. "Yes. And perhaps more…"
Lionel raised his head to face her. "There is more?"
Teasingly, she dipped a finger into the honey, then put a hand on his chest, leaving a trace of honey there. Seeing the glistening drop, she then lowered her head and licked it away. Dipping her finger once more, she laid a trail of honey down between his pectoral muscles and up and down his ribs. She followed the trail with her hungry tongue while Lionel softly moaned her name, running his hands through her long, slick hair.
When she reached his navel, she looked up at him, an idea entering her mind that was so wanton and wicked that it shocked her even while it excited her. Lionel looked up, meeting her eyes as she lowered his breeches and upended the pot over his waiting manhood. He sat bolt upright as the golden honey oozed into the air and then touched his skin, flowing slowly but inexorably down. Cecilia put a hand to his chest, pushing him down and then straddling him. Her loins met his and the honey poured over him began to coat her. She kissed him, long, hungry kisses that made his body respond with quivering urgency.
Then her lips once more began to move down. Lionel cried out in agonized joy as her questing mouth found the core of his manhood, engulfed it. She began to pleasure him in every way she could think of using lips, hands, and tongue. He writhed and jerked, whispering her name and crying it out until he could contain himself no longer. She finally sat back, panting and satisfied with her efforts, even while her body craved a different kind of satisfaction.
After a moment in which Lionel's chest heaved and his breathing was as hoarse as an animal, he sat up, looking at her. Without a word, he seized her about the waist and lifted her as he fell back into his previous, prone position. At first, Cecilia could not fathom what he was about. Then, with a gasp of shock and a furious blush, she knew. She felt him, beneath her, beginning to lick at the honey that had been smeared over the heart of her womanhood. She felt his tongue, thrusting and dancing, making her squirm and writhe. She closed her eyes to the ecstasy building within her, becoming a being of pure, sensuous, sinful pleasure. Caring not for anything beyond the four walls that surrounded them. She reveled in that pleasure.