Chapter 7

7

If Sebastian was completely honest with himself pursuing Agatha had nothing to do with his sire or even her request. It was entirely and wholly about the fact that he had to have her. He didn’t quite understand it himself except he knew that he would drive himself mad if he didn’t get to touch her voluptuous body and teach it how to sing.

All of that was why he was currently standing on the front stoop of her residence waiting to be let inside. After a stodgy butler inquired for his name and purpose of visit.

Eventually he’s led into a parlor towards the back of the house. It’s surprising to find her living in such a sizable townhome. He’d assumed her meager widow’s allowance would not have afforded her such a home in this affluent neighborhood. If she can afford this house, why are her parents insisting she marry again?

“I cannot imagine that anyone is calling upon me, Violet. Certainly your butler is mistaken.”

“Let us just see,” another woman’s voice said. .

And then Agatha steps into the room with another woman inching in behind her.

He can’t take his eyes off of Agatha though. If she captured his attention wearing mourning rags and a veil, she’s mesmerized him wearing a green muslin day dress that looks soft to the touch.

Her features widened with shock as she sees him lounging on her settee.

“What are you doing here?”

The other woman’s eyes round and she hides a giggle behind her hand. “Oh my, Agatha, is this him?”

“Have you been talking about me, little dove?” he asked.

He stands and prowls towards her. The other woman suppresses a cackle, then taps Agatha on the arm. “This is simply too delicious. I’ll leave you two alone.”

“Violet,” Agatha hisses. Her dark hair is pulled up in a loose chignon and wisps of nearly black curls play by her ears.

“I told you that I would pay a call on you.” He glanced around the room and motioned to the large wall of windows overlooking a balcony with stairs leading into the gardens below. “This is a very nice house, Agatha.”

She stiffened slightly. “Yes. This is my friend Violet’s house and she kindly has allowed me to stay here with her since my husband passed away.”

“I can presume that that,” he points to the now closed parlor door, “was Violet?”

“Yes.”

“If you’re residing here and not in the residence you shared during your brief marriage, am I to assume your husband had an heir? Or did he not have any holdings or income to pass along?”

Her fingers gather at the fabric of her skirt, bunching bits of it from her waistline into her palms, then releasing it again. “A nephew.”

“This nephew insisted you leave? He did not offer to take care of you in your husband’s absence?” Sebastian asked.

Her eyes cast downward. “He offered for me to warm his bed.”

Her words curdle in his stomach. “That did not appeal to you? Seems a perfect solution to your problem.”

She visibly bristled. “Mr. St. Claire,” she begins.

He held up a hand. “Sebastian.”

“Very well, Sebastian. I believe I was rather hasty in my decision to agree to you assisting me in my education. But it has come to my attention that there are other ways I can learn the necessary skills.”

He returned to the settee, in no hurry to leave her presence. He sat, spreading his arms across the back of the brocade fabric. “Did you find another tutor, then?”

“No.”

The relief that swept through him was jarring. He chose to ignore it. It didn’t mean anything other than he was very interested in bedding her himself. “Then what are these other ways for you to learn? Do you intend to watch other couples in hopes that you’ll absorb the information that way? Because I can assure you, little dove, watching—while highly arousing—is not the same as doing.”

Her mouth opened in blatant shock. “Do people do such things?”

He glanced down at his hand, inspecting his fingernails. Through her eyes, he would likely appear bored with their exchange. He was anything but. Showing her his eagerness, however, would never do. The truth was, though, he was practically salivating to teach this woman the pleasures of the flesh. She was ripe for the picking and he wanted to delight her. He wanted to hear her scream his name in pleasure.

“There are rooms at my mother’s establishment that allow such things. Of course everyone must agree to such a thing.”

She swallowed visibly and stepped closer to the settee.

“So if that’s not your chosen method, do tell me, Agatha, how do you intend to learn to pleasure a man?” He leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. He made certain to spread his thighs, his tall form poised as if to pounce on her at any moment. “Because the truth of the matter is, we can tell when a woman is inexperienced. We know when a woman is untouched. You’ve said yourself that you remained a virgin. How do you intend to explain that to your first lover?”

Her shoulders rounded and she looked over her shoulder at him. Haughtiness personified. She definitely had fire in her. That alone was enough to have his cock stirring inside his trousers.

“I’m certain I can find books on the subject matter. The pleasuring a man, that is. My virginity is none of your concern.”

“You are correct to assume that there are such texts. Ancient texts from the Orient and Ancient Greece, all of which detail several different ways and positions to enjoy congress. You might be able to glean quite a bit of knowledge that way.” He stood and walked to her.

With one hand, he twirled one of her ebony curls around a finger. “You should consider what to do about your maidenhead blood when you leave it on your first lover’s bedding.” He lifted a shoulder. “Perhaps he won’t notice it there, but he’ll most assuredly notice the smear of red on his cock.”

Her pupils are blown and her breathing has become shallow.

“My proposition for you. Let me have you tonight. I can show you what your body is capable of. I can pleasure you in several different ways before we even remove all your clothing. I’ll make certain your body is ready to take a man so it will be as comfortable as possible.” He leaned down and placed a kiss at that sweet spot where her shoulder met the hollow of her neck.

“One night, Agatha,” he whispered.

“Why?” Her voice came out in a whisper. “Why do you want to help me?”

“This isn’t about help, little dove. This is about me wanting you. From the moment I laid eyes on you, I’ve wanted to peel you out of every layer of clothing. I want to lick and suck and kiss every inch of your skin.” To prove his point, he bit her gently in that spot, then licked and sucked until he earned a throaty moan from her. “I can’t promise what other lovers will do for you, but I can guarantee you’ll cry my name with pleasure before the night is over. I can show you how amazing your body can feel.”

“Only one night?” she whispered.

“One night if that is all you want.”

He nearly fell to his knees in thanks. That should be enough warning for him to get the hell out of here. He’d never begged a woman before. Never had to. Perhaps that’s why he found this particular woman so damned intoxicating.

“Where’s your bedchamber?” he asked.

“Upstairs in the left wing.”

Without another word, he scooped her up in his arms, cradling her to his chest.

“You do not need to carry me.”

“Consider it part of your seduction.” He followed her verbal instructions out the parlor and up the stairs, which he took two at a time. He was done pretending that his desire for her was casual. He was nearly choking on the need to pin her against something and take her mouth.

Her bedchamber was large with an elaborately carved four-poster bed draped with creamy white linens. He set her down, then locked her bedroom door behind them.

“Did your husband touch you in any manner before he died?”

She swallowed, then shakes her head. “Your kiss,” she started, then stopped, biting down on her lip.

“My kiss what?”

She licked her lips.

His cock pulsed in his trousers.

“It was my first,” she said. “Aside from the chaste press of his lips at our ceremony. He was already ill when we married, though I didn’t know that at the time.”

Knowing he would own Agatha’s firsts made this entire evening all the more enticing. He didn’t need another reason to desire her, still her confession pulsed through his body. He’d stolen her first kiss, but now he would take the rest of her firsts at her request.

“Should I call for a maid to assist me with my dress?” she asked.

“No, I’ll do it. Would you feel more comfortable if we started with that, or do you want to build up to it?”

“I’m not certain which would be better. I fear I’ll be nervous regardless.”

“I’ll stop anytime you want me to.” He slid his hands up her arms and gave her shoulders a gentle squeeze. “Do you trust me?”

Her lips quirked in a smile. “I probably shouldn’t.”

He stared down into her warm brown eyes. “That’s not what I asked you.”

“Yes, in this particular situation, I trust you.”

“Turn around, little dove.”

Without hesitancy, she turned away from him, presenting him with her back. From just below her neck down to her waist, he found a string of tiny buttons.

“So many buttons seems superfluous,” he murmured.

She glanced at him over her shoulder. “I know they can be tedious. I can call for a maid.”

“I do not wish to be deprived of the pleasure of undressing you, Agatha,” he said.

Her mouth formed a perfect ‘o,’ then she turned back around.

One-by-one he unfastened the buttons, the fabric of her dress gaping open to reveal her corset and chemise underneath. He pushed at the sleeves of her dress until he dragged it down to her wrists. From there it slipped off her hands and pooled to the floor.

Before beginning to untie her stays, he leaned forward and ran his nose up the side of her neck.

“You’re a very attractive woman, little dove.”

“Is that my name now?” she asked with a breathless chuckle.

“Tonight it is.”

She shivered against the brush of his lips against her shoulder.

“I’m going to put my mouth all over your body.”

“Oh my.”

He loosened her corset enough to unhook the front and remove it leaving her in her chemise, drawers and stockings. The thin fabric of her chemise did nothing to hide the sharp beading of her nipples. He dropped to his knees in front of her to suck one into his mouth through the delicate material. He cupped the other while his tongue and lips wet the fabric on her other breast.

He leaned back to examine his handiwork, then moved to the dry breast to give it the same attention until her chemise was damp and molded to her generous breasts and tight-tipped buds.

She panted and stared down at him with such wild abandon and blatant desire that his cock hardened instantly. Some women were born with passion in them and only needed to learn how to set it ablaze. Agatha Pennybrook was one of those women. It was going to be a fucking pleasure teaching her how to unleash her desires.

“I want to make you climax,” he said. “Have you ever made yourself orgasm before?”

Her eyes widened, and she shook her head. “No.”

“Have you ever tried? Slipped your hand between your legs in the middle of the night because it felt too damn good not to?”

Again a shake of her head. “Shouldn’t this be about your pleasure?”

“Oh it is, little dove. But you have to understand that a man can find pleasure anywhere, but to get him returning to the same woman, you have to bring something special.”

“What’s that?”

He grinned at her. “You. The way your body trembles with pleasure, the way you cry out with your release. That will be bring a man back to your bed, again and again.”

“So how do you want to come for the first time?” Do you want to sit in my lap and kiss and rock your pretty cunt against my cock until you release? Or do you want me to use my hands on you?” He leaned in a licked across her collarbone. “Perhaps instead, I want you to come all over my mouth.”

Her head shook and she swallowed hard.

“What’s it going to be, Agatha?” He slid a finger beneath the strap of her chemise and bared her shoulder to his teeth.

She moaned and bucked against him. “Please make it stop?”

“Are you aching, love? Does your cunny feel empty?”

“Yes,” her word came out in a soft exhalation.

“I’m going to taste you tonight. But let us get you a little more relaxed, shall we?” He situated them on the oversized wing backed chair by the fireplace. There was a stack of books on the small table next to it. In fact, there were stacks of books on nearly every surface in this room. A fact he might comment on if his dick didn’t feel as if it was going to break off it was so damned hard.

He sat in the chair and brought her onto his lap so she straddled his hips. With one swift movement, he removed her chemise and dropped if on the floor behind her.

Her breasts were perfect. Heavy and round with rosy centers and firm nipples. He leaned forward and clasps one in his mouth, while he shifted her bottom. The slit in her drawers enabled him to press her open needy flesh against the hard length of his need. The musky scent of her arousal was heady and he groaned into her breast.

He rocked his pelvis against her to show her how to find her pleasure, then he cupped both of her breasts, pinched her nipples and brought his mouth to hers.

He’d never been one for kissing. He’d much rather skip ahead to kissing a slick quim than a woman’s mouth. But with Agatha, he had an unquenchable need to put their mouths together. Her tongue slid against his and she rocked herself awkwardly against him. After a few moments of her clumsy movements and their heated kissing, she found her rhythm. Her hands gripped his shoulders as they continued to kiss.

She pulled back from their kiss, arching her back. Her head tossed back, and a throaty moan sounded around him. It was the single sexiest thing he’d ever heard. Having grown up in a brothel, he’d become quite accustomed to the sounds of pleasure. But something about Agatha’s innocence was driving him wild.

“You’re getting close, little dove, aren’t you? I can feel how hot and wet your cunt is as you rub against me and it feels so good. You keep going until your body falls apart. That’s it, love.” He pinched her nipples again.

Her head tilted back to face him and her eyes widen as her mouth fell open.

“Sebastian,” she whispered.

“That’s it, love, you’re almost there. Keep rocking against me. Soak my trousers.”

Then she shuddered against him as pleasure pulsed through her body. She cried out, her voice hoarse and her breasts thrust forward, a comely flush covering her perfectly pale skin.

“Gorgeous,” he murmured.

She collapsed against him, her mouth nestled against his throat. “I didn’t know my body could do that.”

“Your body can do a lot more than just that.” He helped her stand, then pulls down her drawers until she steps out of them. One at a time, he rolled down her silk stockings. They were nice quality, but clearly aged. Every new expanse of her creamy skin he revealed made him even harder.

He had to make her come again though before he took her. He was a big man, all over, and he wanted to hurt her as little pain as possible.

When she stood before him completely bare, he leaned back in the chair and lets his eyes take in the glorious sight of her.

“You are a beautiful woman, Agatha,” he said.

“Thank you,” her voice came out in a hushed whisper.

“Get on the bed now.” He stood and began to unbutton his shirt. He removed all of his clothing, leaving it all on the chair before walking to her.

Unlike some women, she hadn’t scurried to hide beneath the coverlet, instead she’d sprawled herself on the bed, and blatantly stared at his body.

His cock, hard and heavy, jutted from his body. The sensitive tip already leaked for her. He gripped the shaft and squeezed the base to try to reign in his control.

He walked to her, hand still wrapped around himself. “Spread your legs, let me see that pretty cunny.”

The dark triangle of curls at the apex of her thighs looked bold against the paleness of her skin.

Her eyes haven’t left his cock, but she followed his instructions. Her legs part.

“That’s it, little dove. Look at how wet you are for me.” He leaned down and placed a kiss right at her navel against her soft rounded stomach. “I’m going to make you come one more time before I take you. We want you even wetter so you can easily take my cock.”

She nodded, but didn’t say anything.

“Bend your legs and brace your feet on the bed.”

She opened herself to him fully. “You’re so pink and swollen for me, glistening with your nectar.” He gripped his cock again. He needed to keep his patience, but he was dying to sheath himself inside her wet heat.

Instead he lay on his stomach and maneuvered himself so that he lay right between her legs, mouth inches from her pussy. He parted her folds using both thumbs until he could see the tight entrance he was waiting to breach.

“Are you certain this is done? I mean with women who are not employed for such things?” she asked.

“You’re wanting to know if women of good breeding participate in such things?” he asked.

“I suppose. My mother certainly never mentioned anything of the sort to me before I wed.”

He nibbled at her thigh, licking and sucking the sensitive skin between her legs without reaching anywhere near her most delicate and sensitive skin. He chuckled. “I don’t imagine she did. I will not brag about any of my previous experience, but I can assure you that plenty of women in the ton have lifted their skirts for such an activity.” Slowly, he slid one finger inside her. She was hot and slick and impossibly tight.

She squeaked and bucked against his hand. Then he swiped one thumb to the side of that tight bundle of nerves.

“Oh God,” she breathed.

That was all it took and he couldn’t wait any longer to get his mouth on her. He licked up one side and then the other as he slowly pumped that single finger in and out. Then he swirled his tongue around that little nub.

She moaned and he did the movement again and again until her fingers carded through his hair.

She was tangy and salty and sweet. He rocked himself against the mattress to try to ease some of the pressure in his sack. He added a second finger inside her, scissoring his digits in an attempt to stretch her a little.

“Sebastian.” Her fingernails dug into his scalp and he growled against her tender flesh. Then he sped up his movements, curving his fingers towards the front of her soft wet space and rubbing, rubbing at the perfect spot. Then he sucked her little nub into his mouth. He pulled on the sensitive flesh with his lips and she rocked against his face faster and faster.

“It’s too much,” she said as she tried to shift away from him.

But he knew it wasn’t. She was so close to breaking. He held her hips in place and kept this rhythm steady, rubbing and sucking, rubbing and sucking.

She released a shrill noise before her voice was muffled. Fresh wetness slicked over his fingers as her climax rocketed through her.