Chapter 19

CHAPTER 19

H yde Park was a lush, serene escape from the bustle of London, the perfect setting for a leisurely afternoon walk. Ciara strolled, her arm resting on Jonathan's, her eyes flicking around to catch the curious glances of other park-goers. She knew their presence was drawing attention, but she tried to focus on the company and the conversation.

Hector and Adeline were trailing behind them quietly, occasionally making pleasant conversation.

"You know, Hector is the last person who'd want to join us for a stroll through Hyde Park," Jonathan admitted, assuring that his friend couldn't hear which made Ciara even more amused.

"How come he is here then?" she asked in a hushed tone of voice while Lord Islington and her friend were still debating which of the romantic poets was better.

"He owed me a favor," Jonathan chuckled. "Besides, I always wanted to make him do something like this. He loathes these… propriety-driven rules and regulations of the ton."

"And you?" she asked although she was certain that she already knew the answer.

"I would lie if I said I didn't," he admitted. "Although being a Duke comes with a certain set of responsibilities, ones I simply cannot run away from, no matter how hard I tried."

For a moment, she believed she could see a glimpse of the man he truly was and not the man he presented himself to be to the world. However, that moment passed as quickly as it had appeared.

"So, I make my own rules," he concluded. "If the ton likes it, fine. If not, they can all go to the devil, for all I care."

Ciara knew that feeling well. Only three days had passed since her first lesson, and already, she felt a change in herself. She had undertaken her duchess duties with more enthusiasm, and she could feel herself working with more joy and energy. She wondered if he was responsible for that.

Then, as they were walking, they ran into a lady Ciara didn't know. However, the lady seemed to know her husband very well as she and her friend stopped to greet him.

"Your Grace," the lady smiled, her rouged lips revealing perfectly aligned teeth, "fancy meeting you here."

"Lady Fletcher," Jonathan said in a flat tone of voice, so Ciara couldn't tell if he was happy or annoyed to have to speak to her. He bowed before the lady and her friend. "May I introduce my wife, Her Grace Ciara Whitlock, the?—"

"Duchess of Silverbrook," Lady Fletcher interjected, finishing his sentence. "Why, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Duchess."

"Lady Fletcher," Ciara nodded politely although there was something in the way the woman eyed her that sent shivers down her spine.

"I suppose it is marriage then, keeping you so busy," Lady Fletcher turned her attention back to Jonathan as if Ciara wasn't even there.

Jonathan nodded. "Yes, a married man changes his habits, Lady Fletcher."

"Perhaps, but there are always exceptions to that rule as to any other." Lady Fletcher chuckled a little maliciously as if she had seen her fair share of exceptions to that rule.

Ciara knew that she didn't want to remain in the company of that lady any longer, but she couldn't pull Jonathan away. He had to do it on his own. Fortunately, he seemed to be able to read her mind.

"Yes, exceptions are all around us," he noted. "It was lovely to see you, Lady Fletcher. We wish you a good day."

Without allowing Ciara to say goodbye, he gently led her away with Adeline and Lord Islington immediately following them. She wanted to ask about Lady Fletcher and how Jonathan knew her, but she couldn't get the words to leave the confines of her mind. She was afraid of the answer, just like she was afraid of her husband's past and how it might always be a shadow over them both.

Lord Islington started a new conversation, and Adeline flowed into it with Jonathan occasionally adding his own thoughts, but she was mostly silent, having remembered something she would rather forget.

That same evening, Ciara was brushing her hair, having given her lady's maid some time to rest. The truth was, brushing her hair was something she had always done for herself; her mother never had the patience or the will for it. As she grew older, Ciara realized that her mother simply never wanted to do any of those tender things that a mother did for her daughter. So, she brushed her own hair, learning to calm herself down in the process.

As she was doing so, the door opened, and Jonathan let himself in.

"Jonathan," she said, her hand stopping mid-stroke.

She wanted to be aloof, to be unavailable to him, but her eyes were already drinking the sight of him. She couldn't hide the fact that she wanted him there as much as he wanted her.

"Siren," he grinned. "I forget what lovely hair you have. You always have it tied up."

"It is the fashion," she explained timidly.

"To hell with fashion," he walked over to her, taking the brush from her hand and placing it gently onto the vanity table. He stood behind her, gathering all of her hair in his hands gently, pushing it to the side, revealing her swan-like neck. "You should always have your hair loose like the siren that you are."

He slowly kissed her neck, and she immediately felt that onslaught of heat completely take over her. The anticipation of the next lesson had her in its grip for the past several days, and she couldn't wait to see him in her chamber again. Finally, the moment had come. Nothing else mattered but the two of them in that moment.

He took her by the hands and got her to stand up. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close, kissing her with wild passion. She returned in the same manner, their tongues dancing to the sound of music only the two of them could hear. When he pulled away, she was blushing and breathless, his eyes staring at her very soul.

"You spent half your life in a nunnery, chaste as the morning dew, and yet, you kiss with such passion, siren. How is that possible?" He grinned through his question.

She blushed even more fervently, deciding to share with him a secret. "Well… there was a stable boy by the name of Peter," she smiled, remembering the boy who had by then become just a shadow of himself, but the feeling of warmth his name evoked was still genuine. "I was sixteen when we met at the nunnery. I saw him for the first time and remember thinking that I wanted to kiss him. So, I often took up tasks in the stables to steal him away and kiss him."

"Did you now?" he asked, tilting his head to the side as he gazed at her. "I keep being surprised more and more by this wild side of yours, siren. What else did you do with Peter the stable boy?" he asked in an amused manner.

But that was when she became saddened. She couldn't even pretend it was any other way. "When Mother Superior found out, I was lashed, and the boy and his family were laid off."

She looked down at her feet, unable to feel guilty for what had happened simply because she wished to indulge in some pleasure.

He cupped her chin with his fingers and made her look up at him. "I'm sorry, but that wasn't your fault."

She shook her head. She wasn't certain what she was responding to. The guilt? The fact that she believed it wasn't her fault? She didn't know. All she knew was that she didn't want to think about that any longer.

Closing her eyes, she crashed her lips against his again, and he understood what she needed. He took her into his arms, taking her to the armchair this time. She was sitting as he spread her legs, pooling the hem of her nightgown around her waist, just like the last night.

"I want you to watch, siren," he urged. "No closing your beautiful eyes. Understood?"

"Mhm," she managed to muster.

She watched when he dug his tongue into her, swirling her, tasting her. She whimpered at the sensation that washed over her. She never wanted his tongue to leave the confines of her body. He glanced up, adding a thumb that gently started to stroke her. She trembled underneath the knowing touch. Then, his finger slowly entered her. It was a strange sensation, one she had never felt before. He took it out, showing her how wet it was. Then, he put it in his mouth, tasting her again.

"Delectable," he said again, grinning. He lifted himself upward, reaching her lips, kissing her with her own juices on his mouth, making her taste herself. Her need was heightened beyond recognition.

He slid down between her legs once again, taking her into his mouth relentlessly. Her body writhed. It convulsed. She moaned loudly, biting her lip in an effort to be quiet, but that was impossible. She wanted more of him. She wanted him deeper. But he didn't give it to her yet. And that made her yearning even more ravenous.

He kept sucking her, his finger teasing her only slightly but enough to make her go wild. Finally, she came undone, just like he knew she would. Her body tensed entirely as a million little stars exploded around the periphery of her vision. Through all that, he kept his eyes on hers, refusing to allow her to look away even for a single second which only seemed to heighten the sensation.

Once the onslaught of bliss subsided, she was still breathing heavily. However, this time, she didn't want to allow him to leave without a promise.

"Teach me," she said softly through the shallow breaths. "I want to pleasure you as well."

His eyes widened in surprise, a flicker of mischief in them then he grinned, nodding. "All right, siren. Come."

He took her by the hands, getting her to stand up. Then, he positioned himself in the armchair, licking his lower lip. "Get on your knees, siren. Slowly."

Feeling overcome by the raw need to feel him, she immediately did as he instructed. He opened his robe, revealing his manhood in all its glory. Her lips parted upon seeing it. She had never seen anything like that. She blushed, her heart skipping a beat, but there was more. Her insides throbbed at the sight.

"Take it gently with your fingers," he whispered, not taking his eyes off her for even a second.

Trembling, her elegant fingers curled around his manhood, and it immediately tightened upon her touch. His eyes flared up at her, and she noticed a droplet of wetness on the tip. She never felt more powerful than at that moment, holding him in her hands, seeing the desire etched on his lips, on his face.

"Caress it," he whispered again. "Do to it what you wish."

She swallowed heavily. He had given her free reign over him. She gently started to stroke him, afraid that she might squeeze too hard. Curiously, she swirled her finger over the little droplet, wiping it away. He groaned with pleasure. A part of her wanted to kiss it, to feel that wetness on her lips. Did she dare do it?

Delicately, she moved her hands up then down, gripping tighter with each stroke. She could see that he liked it. In fact, he loved it.

"Can I… taste it?" she asked, blushing more than ever before, but curiosity won over. She wanted to learn, after all.

He smiled in a way that made her most intimate flesh throb again with need and yearning. She wondered if she could satisfy him as he satisfied her. There was only one way to find out.

"Do with it what you wish," he repeated with a low groan.

She lowered her head toward the tip, flicking her tongue over it. Her eyes looked up at him. His fingers were gripping the handles of the armchair, keeping himself controlled. Her tongue swirled over him again, longer this time as she moved her hand. His manhood tightened even more, if such a thing were even possible, becoming hard as a rock.

"I love that tongue of yours, siren…" she heard him say, and it made her even bolder.

She locked her lips around the tip, licking it, playing with it. She couldn't even imagine that his pleasure would cause her own as well.

Fire shot throughout her body, and she became even bolder, taking more of him into her mouth as he completely lost control. She felt the pulsation that emanated from him as he reached his peak, and he spilled into her mouth with a hoarse moan.

As she pulled back, she swallowed, and he beamed, still dazed with pleasure.

"Was I good?" she asked mischievously.

"Better than good," he said, getting up from the armchair and then helping her up as well.

He ran his thumb across her lips. "You are indeed a very apt pupil."

She chuckled as he placed a soft kiss on her slightly swollen lips and her flushed cheeks.

When he pulled away, he lingered before her for a few moments, as if he had something to say, but then changed his mind at the last minute.

"Right. That's enough for tonight. Goodnight, siren," he said softly.

"Goodnight Jonathan," she replied, and he turned on his heel, leaving her chamber.

As the door closed behind him, she was still smiling, happy and satiated, as she got into bed and closed her eyes, falling asleep that very same instant.