The Virgin in the Rake’s Bed by Ava MacAdams
Chapter Sixteen
“Would a kiss be permissible?” she asked, as their lips parted a moment later.
There could be no denying that Catherine had enjoyed the sensation, and the thought of an evening which led to such a moment was most attractive, but she wondered how such a thing would work in practice, and if it did not require some spark such as she already possessed for Ian.
“A lady is in her rights to refuse, even if the gentleman makes his move, but you offered no resistance,” he replied, still with his arm around her.
“I liked it,” she said, for that was the truth.
“And I am sure the gentleman liked it, too. He will be thinking how lucky he is that a woman – a lady – such as you has deigned to plant her favor on him, and he will be wondering what happens next,” Ian replied.
It was a question which Catherine had asked herself, too, wondering what it was that came next after the sharing of a kiss. She knew about the intimate acts, for both Rebecca and Samantha had spoken candidly of them, and she knew it was expected that such an act take place in marriage, though neither Rebecca nor Samantha had confined their own activities to the marital bed.
“Then I am at liberty to choose. I suppose we might now be spied by one of the party and a kiss would be all that we are permitted,” she said, and Ian laughed.
“But the night is going on, the candles are flickering, it grows darker and gloomier in the corner of our make-believe drawing room. No one is observing us, no one can see, no one will know if a hand is proffered,” he said, returning his own hand to her leg.
“Or even slip out unobserved to the terrace, or some distant part of the garden, even the library,” she said, and he laughed.
“Now you are learning,” he replied.
His touch, his closeness, the words he uttered, sent a fresh shiver of delight running through her. Catherine had never known such a touch before, nor the intimacies of a man beyond a kiss and the imagination. She had thought often of what it might be like, of how such an act would feel, and she knew something of its processes.
But to be so close to a man, to feel the heat of his breath, to sense his desire, only heightened her own passions, so that she was willing to submit to him, whatever move he chose to make next. It seemed they had moved beyond a game to something more, an understanding between two people, one which could lead to a pleasure they so desired.
“And when that hand is proffered, what then am I to do?” she asked, and he smiled at her.
“Whatever you wish to do. It is entirely in your hands. He has made his move, he has dealt his hand, but you are the one with the power of acceptance or rejection. Whichever you choose, the choice is yours, not his, even though he may think himself in control,” Ian said, still smiling, as Catherine took a deep breath.
Her heart was beating, her desire rising. She knew what she wanted, at least, she knew what she desired to experience, to know something of those things which Rebecca and Samantha had so often spoken of. “But is it not the man who must take that first step?” she asked, and he shook his head.
“He would like to, but truly it is the woman who is in charge, the woman who knows her own mind. I have learned that at my peril. You have the power over him, Catherine, just as any woman does. Use it now for your own gain,” he said, and Catherine smiled, reaching out her hand and placing it on his.
His touch was firm on her leg, her desire building, almost too much to contain. She wanted to know him, to know something of what her heart so strongly desired. Their faces were almost touching, and she could imagine the scene he described. There they were, in the drawing room of some grand house. The thought of such mischief under the very noses of chattering women like Lady Millicent was quite delightful, and she leaned forward and kissed him.
But now, their lips did not part in the same way they had done before, but lingered together, their hands entwined. This was no longer a snatched opportunity, but something desired, longed for, wanted. Catherine knew that Ian’s touch was sincere, that he wanted her as she wanted him, and now she allowed herself to give in to those feelings, the final act of seduction complete.
His arm was about her, and he pulled her closer, their lips still together, his hand tracing up her bodice to her breast. She gave a startle at the intensity of his touch, a shudder of pleasure running through her as he pulled at her dress, exposing her. She felt the coolness of the air against her skin, the lightness of his touch raising goosebumps over her, and she pulled back, their lips parting, though their eyes remained fixed on one another.
“There is more?” she gasped, and he smiled.
“There is much more, but if you wish to stop…” he said, withdrawing his hand.
But Catherine shook her head. She had tasted the delightful ecstasy which could be hers, and all thoughts of reserve were gone. She knew Ian had had many lovers, that his was an experienced touch, and now she wanted that experience, too, to know how such things felt, even if the thought came with apprehension. She had heard there was pain as well as pleasure, that the sensation could be so strong as to make one cry out and lose control of one’s reason. It scared her to think what might happen, but fascinated her, too.
“I do not wish to stop,” she replied, and she pulled him toward her, kissing him on the lips, as his hands searched out her breasts, exposed now to his touch.
Catherine could not believe the overwhelming sense of pleasure now rising in her. It was as though something inside her had been released, a passion long dormant, now erupting. She had not known such feelings before, but they offered such intensity as to be almost unbearable for their pleasure. She was lost in the moment, caught up in sharing with Ian all that she had ever imagined this moment to be. Now she clung to him, his lips moving down her neck and breasts, arching her back, and she shuddered as his fingers searched her out.
“I think you have allowed me to seduce you,” he whispered, looking up at her mischievously.
“But is it not I who have seduced you? Do I not have that power over you?” she gasped, as another finger came to bear on her, and he nodded.
“You have allowed that power to be mine. Now, you have let yourself be seduced as much as I have, for it takes two to form such a union,” he exclaimed, and he brought his lips to her breasts, and Catherine gave a cry as suddenly she felt an intensity of heat rising in her loins.
“It is too much,” she cried, as with a shudder, her whole body seemed to climax, a burning heat coursing through her, causing her to fall back with an ecstatic cry.
Ian looked at her and smiled as she caught her breath, astonished at what she had just experienced. There were no words that could describe her feelings, no words that could adequately express what she felt at having known such a touch for the first time. But now she had tasted those forbidden fruits, Catherine wondered what more there was to come. She knew there was more, for both Rebecca and Samantha had spoken of it.
“And so, you are seduced,” he said, and sat back on the chair, his hands behind his head, and a look of satisfaction on his face.
“I have seduced you, or you have seduced me?” she asked, slipping her hand into his.
There no longer seemed to be any pretension in their actions, and it felt as though this was no longer a ruse or a game, but the intimacy of two lovers in the moments after that love had known its physicality. Catherine could detect nothing but sincerity in Ian, his touch had been that of a man who was in love, of that she was certain, and such knowledge only heightened her desire for something more.
“You have seduced me, and I have allowed myself to be seduced. But does not each party always believe they are the protagonist in such a match? The gentleman will always believe it, as will the lady. The point is that it should be you and not the other,” he said, rising to his feet and stretching out his arms.
“And you were merely showing me?” she asked, feeling playful in the aftermath of what they had shared.
“It was the final lesson, surely?” he said, smiling at her.
“I hope not,” she replied, rising to her feet, and knowing that there was more to come.
Ian shook his head in amusement, and she came to put her arms around him, forgetting the nature of their game. There could be no denying her feelings for him now, and she was certain that his own went far beyond mere friendship. He had allowed himself to be seduced, but in turn, his actions had seduced her, too. She was in love, and she was eager to know where those feelings might take her.
“Perhaps there is still more to teach you, but you must return home for now, else I shall find your brother knocking at my door and demanding satisfaction,” he said, as Catherine took up her shawl and wrapped it around her shoulders.
Her dress was disheveled, and she wondered what Rebecca and Samantha would say if they could see her in the aftermath of her passion. She wondered if this was how they, too, had experienced such feelings for the first time, and if their own passions had been so easily aroused.
“I would like it if you did,” she said, and he nodded, pouring himself a glass of brandy and raising it to her in a toast.
“Then I look forward to seeing you again,” he replied, and Catherine gave an exaggerated curtsey.
“But who shall seduce whom, now?” she asked, and she put her hand on his chest, tracing a trail down it, smiling up at him as she did so.
“You have been given your lessons, it is up to you if you desire it,” he said, just as a knock came at the door.
It was Redbrand, the butler, announcing that Plotinus was growing restless in the drawing room and asking his master if he would soon be taking him for a walk. “Or shall I allow him free reign of the gardens, sir?” the butler asked.
Catherine took this as her cue to leave, promising to return the day after next to continue their lessons. “I hope I shall find something to teach you,” Ian said, and Catherine nodded.
“I think there is much still to learn,” she replied, and leaning up she kissed him on the lips, their hands lingering together, before so bid him farewell.
* * *
Ian was confused. The intimacy he had shared with Catherine that afternoon had been pleasant, to say the least, but as he walked with Plotinus through the gardens, he could not help but wonder if he had made a mistake. It had been pleasurable to be seduced, for there was no doubting that Catherine had done just that, but his feelings for her were growing stronger by the moment, and he knew that if he did not keep them in check, then he would soon find himself in love with her.
“Or am I already in love with her, Plotinus?” he asked.
Plotinus was sniffing a scent in the long grass by the orchard, and he looked up and barked as Ian followed him. The thought of being in love made Ian feel uneasy. He had already broken every single one of his rules, rules which had been made to avoid such situations from arising. Ian had always been so firm with himself, and he had avoided such feelings for so long that it felt strange to be experiencing them again now. He had not spoken of his brother and Cassandra so openly before – not with someone he barely knew – but with Catherine it had seemed easy, natural, even, and Ian had found nothing but sincerity about her, a sincerity to which he was attracted.
“But I cannot be in love,” he told himself, cursing himself for being so foolish as to allow his feelings to get the better of him.
He followed Plotinus amongst the fruit trees for a while, pink and white blossom falling like snow all around him. He was scared of falling in love, scared of what such feelings might do to him, and there and then he resolved to take a step back, to impose a new set of rules on himself, rules that would force his feelings for Catherine to be tempered and put in their proper place. She was searching for a husband, and whilst Ian had been happy to play the role as a ruse, he knew he could not possibly follow through with it, could he?
“I have been a fool, Plotinus, for what do I want with a woman? I shall only be hurt again. No, you are my only intimate, the one companion I can trust with all my secrets,” Ian said, reaching down and ruffling the dog’s neck, surprised by the force of the feelings in his heart and determined to bring them under control as best he could.
