Page 62 of Just a Little Daring

You poor, poor man. It troubles me to discover an otherwise healthy person afflicted with such severe mental disorders. I beseech you to find help for your malady with as much urgency as possible. You are clearly deluded and living in a world of make-believe.

I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but those friendly little imps that chatter in your ear are not real and only a figment of your imagination, which is running amok. Please do not let this news upset you unduly. I understand modern medicine can offer you several cures for what ails you.

Indeed, I understand ice baths to be of benefit and will gladly give you a dunking in the nearest body of water if you insist on continuing with this nonsensical correspondence. You are living in a wibbly wobbly world of your own, sir. I have no tender feelings regarding you. I have no feelings for you at all other than those of intense irritation. I hope I have made myself plain? So, you may keep writing to me until you are blue in the face, for you shall receive nothing but insults in return.

―Excerpt of a letter from Lady Aisling Baxter (Daughter of the Right Hon’ble Luke and Kitty Baxter, the Earl and Countess of Trevick) to The Hon’ble Mr Sylvester Cootes.

26th April 1841, Rother House, Burwash, Etchingham, East Sussex.

August knew he was a rotter. Knew it, and didn’t give a damn. Vivien’s entire family was downstairs. His entire family was downstairs, and here he was, intent on debauching his innocent fiancée in his bedroom well ahead of their vows.

Well, it was about time people realised he was as thoroughly wicked as Bainbridge, Dare and even Raphe. A point he wanted to make most especially to the woman in his arms. She seemed happy enough with the plan so far. She had certainly mastered kissing, and the art of getting him hot and bothered in a matter of seconds.

Kissing Vivien was something he did not believe he would ever get used to. She matched him for passion, yet there was tenderness and adoration and so much love behind every touch of their lips it went far beyond mere lust, though that was certainly a force rising through him with increasing impatience.

“Viv,” he murmured, breaking the kiss to press his mouth to her throat. “Viv, I’m losing my mind. I cannot wait until next week to marry you. I’ll run mad.”

Viv giggled, and August lifted his head to stare at her. “You’re not supposed to laugh. This is my sanity at risk. I can’t sleep for thinking of you. If I do sleep, I dream of you and such wicked dreams they are, love. I’m wretched without you. I need you with me always, in my bed most especially for I’m going all to pieces.”

“The date is set now. We can’t change it. And what happens in these wicked dreams of yours that distresses you so?” she asked innocently, looking up at him from under thick, black lashes.

“I couldn’t tell you that,” he whispered in her ear. “You’d be so scandalised you’d run away and refuse to marry me.”

“Heavens. I think you ought to tell me in that case. If my husband is so dreadfully depraved, I think I have the right to know.”

August nipped at her earlobe, pleased when she shivered in response. “I shan’t sully your ears with the wicked details, but I need to put my hands on you. I want to touch you, to kiss you everywhere, from your lips to your lovely breasts to your most secret places.”

Vivien turned around. “Undo my gown!” she said desperately, glaring at him over her shoulder when he chuckled. “Hurry!”

“I can’t undress you entirely, love, much as it pains me to say it. We can’t disappear for too long or someone will come searching.”

Nonetheless his fingers made quick work of the fastenings, enough that he could tug the gown and bodice lower. He pulled her back against him and reached around to cup her exposed breasts, letting out a shuddering sigh as she arched into his touch. Her lovely behind pressed against him and he urged his hips closer, his lust-filled brain clouding with pleasure as his cock nestled snugly against her. Vivien’s head fell back against his shoulder as he teased her nipples, gently rolling and pinching. He ducked his head to kiss her elegant neck, aware her breathing had grown erratic. There was no maidenly shyness, however, no shock or bewilderment at his touch. She trusted him, and that made his heart so full of joy he was suddenly filled to the brim with emotion. What they had together was special, too special to throw away their first time in a hasty coupling, afraid they’d be interrupted at any moment. Yet he needed a taste of her, needed something to carry him through the days until she was entirely his.

“Sit on the bed,” he told her, the words harsher than he’d meant them to his, his voice having taken on a rough, raspy quality.

Vivien only glanced at him though, the hint of a smile at her lips as she did as he asked.

August’s breathing was laboured as he took in the sight of her, perched on the edge of his bed. He had mussed her sleek black hair, which was falling from its pins, framing her beautiful face. Her lips were plush and rosy from his kisses, and her breasts, the delicate little peaks of her nipples…. His mouth watered and he swallowed hard and moved quickly, kneeling before her. He caressed her breasts, nuzzling the valley between the splendidly soft mounds and trailing his lips across the delicious curves. His mouth covered a taut bud, suckling gently as Vivien gasped, her fingers tangling in his hair.

“Oh, that’s… that’s lovely.”

August lifted his head, but she made an incoherent sound of complaint and guided his mouth back again. He laughed softly against her skin, content to indulge them both a little longer. When he finally looked up, her eyes were dark and hazy with desire. Oh, Lord. His cock throbbed, his entire body aching with a need which he could not indulge as he so desperately wanted to, but his beloved need not suffer such torments and he could not wait any longer to put his mouth on her.

“Lay back, love. Don’t be startled, but I… I need to… I want….”

Vivien ignored him for a moment, reaching out to stroke his hair.

“I know,” she whispered, looking somewhat smug even though she was blushing furiously. “Nani Maa showed me a dreadfully wicked book. She said she’d give me a copy as a wedding gift. It is a sort of instruction book, and it has… pictures.”

August stared at her, eyes wide with shock. “An… instruction book?”

Vivien nodded, biting her lip. “Yes, for many things about married life, but also all the possible… positions.”

“Positions,” August repeated, his mind boggling at the fact her grandmother had given her such a thing.

“Nani Maa says women ought to know what they’re in for, and to know how to find their own pleasure. She says knowledge is power, and men are easier to manage when you know how to… er… handle them.”

August swallowed, somewhat stunned. “Well,” he said unsteadily. “She’s not wrong.”