Wow! Over 350 reviews in just 10 chapters. You guys are simply cool! Thanks for such a great response, people. Here is the next update. Hope you like it.
Warning: If you have triggers or are easily ruffled, then please don't read the last part of this chapter.
Chapter 11: Of Mischief & Mayhem
"Edward, is this estate your Uncle's? Isabella asked her husband from her perch in front of the vanity.
The night had fallen and after a sumptuous dinner, the couple had retired to their chambers early.
The Duke looked up from the book he was perusing and his eyes darkened as he watched his wife comb her long hair. He found the activity strangely arousing despite its mundane nature. Now that he was introduced to the pleasure of love-making and was intimately acquainted with every glorious curve of his beautiful wife, he could barely contain his hunger. Spending the day in an enclosed carriage with her whilst she looked the very epitome of feminine beauty had been a torture for him. Added to that was the knowledge of precisely what lay beneath the delicate silk of her gown had nearly driven him insane. Yet, he had kept his ardour tightly leashed for he had taken her countless time the night before, till the break of the dawn. She was bound to be sore.
It took him a moment to recall the question Isabella had asked, lost as he was in the ruminations of a much pleasurable activity.
"No, Jasper inherited this estate from his great Aunt who died a few months back. Although it is a small estate with an income of only four thousand pounds a year, it is more than sufficient for him. As it is, he is a second son and even if my Uncle and Cousin James had possessed a good character, Jasper would not have gotten much from his Father. Although he had taken commission, still he would have been required to marry an heiress- one of the painted peacocks of the ton," Edward said dryly, "But now he has this estate and he is finally out from under his Father's thumb. He can do with his life as he pleases and for Jasper, there is nothing more better or opportune than the present circumstances."
The Duke stood up and went to his wife's side. Squeezing her shoulders affectionately, he asked in a desperate voice, "Are you sore, wife?"
The passion smouldering in his eyes had Isabella blushing. Lowering her head shyly, she whispered, "No, My Lord."
Her demurely spoken words were all the permission he needed. Bending down, Edward picked her up in his arms and kissed her hungrily. Tracing her lower lip with his tongue, he urged her to open her mouth for him and moaned throatily as she allowed him entrance. Isabella shyly touched his tongue with hers, but her inhibition was soon forgotten as her husband all but ravaged her mouth. She felt fire coursing through her veins, burning her savagely as he pulled her tighter against his chest. She caressed his scalp and clutched his hairs, tugging him closer.
Her passionate participation aroused Edward to the point of pain, so he quickly lowered her to her feet. With hasty hands, he tried to remove her attire, but only managed to shred the silk shift beyond repair.
"Edward!" Isabella cried, scandalized.
"Too much, darling. I need you too much," He growled, then hissed as she attacked his clothes with equal vigour, sending his cravat and under shirt flying across the chamber, "You can buy hundreds of those shifts if you want!"
With his clothes joining hers on the floor, they tumbled on the bed in a tangle of limbs.
"My wife. Mine!" He snarled as he pulled her closer. He pulled a rosy peak of her nipple in his mouth, suckling and nipping like a babe whilst he fondled the other creamy mound. Isabella gasped loudly, her legs locking around his waist on their own accord. Her centre ached, throbbed with a need so raw that she felt as if she would lose her sanity if left unsatisfied.
"Edward, please, darling! I cannot bear any longer!"
"What is it, love? What do you need?" Edward revelled in the power he had over her. He exhaled loudly when Isabella rubbed her dripping core against his turgid length and he had to resist the urge to rut into her like an animal. His hands reached down to still her thighs causing her to thrash against him.
"I asked you a question, Isabella!" He demanded firmly.
"You! I want you in me. Make me yours," She mewled, her face scrunched in pleasure.
Her passionate words were enough to make him lose control and he entered her warm core in one swift move. He groaned, his eyes nearly rolling back in his head as he felt her wet warmth clench around him tightly, welcoming him, arousing him to the point of insanity.
Isabella screamed as she felt him enter her, her arms tightened around him as she clutched him to her bosom. She felt full...too full and the pleasure of it, of him being joined with her so intimately nearly had her sobbing. Heat bloomed in her womb as she desperately clawed at him. She needed it- needed the height of pleasure he had taken her to the night before.
"Edward." She moaned which filled him with great satisfaction.
"Yes, darling. Say my name. Scream my name, sweetheart!" He growled. Even though Jasper and Bella had explained the reason of their prior acquaintance and it had been nothing but valid, still he could not control his reaction. Primal fury and possessiveness filled him as he remembered her delight on meeting his Cousin.
"Mine, Isabella! You are mine. My wife, my mate, my lover!" Edward snarled as he plundered her core at a punishing pace, yet Isabella did not flinch. She met each of his thrust with her own- his urgency fuelling hers.
"Yes! Dear Lord, yes, I am yours!" She hissed, her eyes shut in pleasure.
Their coupling was raw and passionate, fraught with emotions. They moved in tandem in the primitive dance till they came together, screaming in pleasure. Completely spent, Edward collapsed on Isabella with his head nestled in her bosom whilst she cradled him, kissing him lightly on his sweaty forehead. As he regained his wits and the haze of pleasure fogging his brain finally cleared, he grew alarmed.
"Dear Lord, Isabella! I have behaved so despicably...behaved like a brute. Are you hurt?Do you-"
"Edward!" Isabella interrupted him firmly, "You did not hurt me. I...I enjoyed it." She whispered shyly, her eyes downcast. Edward groaned wretchedly.
"You need not lie, Bella. I know I hurt you. I was beastly and-" However, his self-castigation was stopped abruptly by Isabella as she kissed him fervently, reverently. Caressing his cheeks, his jaw, she nearly loved him with her mouth. Despite himself, Edward hardened due to her tender ministrations.
"Bella.."
"Shh," She whispered, "You are too hard on yourself, Edward. Why do you loath yourself so? Why cannot you see how truly wonderful you are...so passionate, kind and loving?"
"Bella-" He tried to interject, but was cut short as she covered his mouth with hers. Gently, she made him roll over so that he lay beneath her. The sudden change in angle made his manhood which was still ensconced in her core, penetrate her depth more deeply. The urge to make love to her again was compelling, yet Edward refrained. He tried to remove himself from her, but she clamped her thighs together.
"You must.. be sor..e, Bella. You m...ust not...Ah." He hissed as she bucked her hips against his whilst peppering his chest with kisses.
"You think too much, husband," She quipped, her eyes darkened with lust. Licking her lips, she pulled him in for a kiss and bit him hard on his bottom lip.
Their breaths mingled as they became one. Moans and fervent sighs echoed in their spacious chamber.
Moving with a tenderness, they coupled again, yet it was in stark contrast to the raw passion from before. The embers of their love smouldered slowly as they moved together lovingly, conversing in a language that only those who have experienced the truest of love can understand. It was not long before their exhausted bodies fell in the hold of Morpheus, tangled together in an intimate embrace even in slumber.
The night was the fortunate witness of their burgeoning love...the promise of joy and hope.
"My heartiest congratulations again on your wedding, Bella. You two are well matched," Jasper grinned widely as he bid the Duke and the Duchess farewell, "And if you ever need saving from my cousin's boorish ways, then you need only say. I shall arrive on my faithful steed and spirit you away to safety."
Isabella laughed in mirth, yet she was not unaware of the sudden tension that gripped her husband. Squeezing his arm where she held him, she inadvertently tried to comfort him.
"I thank you kind, sir, for your offer is indeed tempting. I am afraid that I shall have to decline though- I am quite content with my fate."
Almost unconsciously, Edward released the breath he had been holding, feeling smug and satisfied. Jasper smiled knowingly at him.
"Do not burst your coat buttons in pride, Cousin. You have indeed managed to win the highest prize."
"That I have, Jasper, that I have," A goofy smile lit his face with dimples indenting his cheeks. Isabella gasped, once again struck by the handsomeness of her husband.
Edward glanced down at her and his verdant eyes darkened as he took in her parted lips. Feeling as if he was intruding in a private moment, Jasper walked away to talk to the coach driver.
"Do you know what you do to me, Bella?" Edward's voice was husky.
"You are insatiable, My Lord."
"And I have every right to be, for my wife is so very beautiful. It requires a monumental strength of will to let you out of the bed. If it were up to me, you would forever be in my hold whilst I-"
"Edward!" Isabella chided, her face burning, "Someone will hear us and-
"And they will know how thoroughly I am besotted with my wife which is nothing but the truth," He looked at her mischievously, "Say, wife, will you allow me the pleasure of sating a curiosity of mine?"
Isabella eyed him warily, suspicious of his sudden humour.
"Will you allow me to see for myself how far your blush goes?"
The Duchess's eyes widened as she gaped at him.
"I...you.."
"Cousin, you need to depart if you wish to reach Pembrook before the sun sets. Those roads are not safe enough to travel with a lady after dark," Jasper's deep baritone cut short Isabella's stutters.
Taking their leave from him, the Duke and Duchess of Alsworth finally started for their estate. As the carriage moved along the road of Meryton, Edward drew the curtains shut, plunging them in darkness.
"What are you doing, My Lord?" Isabella started, mystified.
"Why, wife, I asked you a question before and I intend to get my answer," He replied impishly, shedding his coat and removing his cravat.
"Here?"
"Yes, here, My Lady. We shall reach our estate by evening. 'Tis too long for me to deny myself my beguiling wife."
"What if the coachman hears us, Edward? We cannot-"
"Yes, we can and yes we will," He replied mulishly, kissing her neck, "We will just have to be quiet," He nipped her collarbone even as his fingers removed the ties of her gown, "And even if we don't, he shan't dare mention anything." Edward released her hair so that they fell to her waist like a silken curtain.
"Hmm...you have lovely hair, wife," He whispered against the skin of her breasts. Isabella reddened as her gown pooled to her waist.
"And I was correct in guessing that your blush reaches your bosom," His gruff voice dripped with pride as he held the bounty he had uncovered, in his hands.
Several red marks marred the flawless skin of her chest and he caressed them, his eyes filled with masculine appreciation.
"I adore the sight of you covered in my marks, my Duchess."
Isabella's breath left her in a loud whoosh. She was quickly losing her wits under his ministration, yet she once again tried to deter her stubborn husband.
"Ooh...We...are..eeh...in a car...riage, Ed...Oh Lord,...However..sssshall...We ah..."
"Human body is incredibly flexible, Bella. Let me show you, my darling" Edward whispered seductively, biting her earlobe gently. He renewed his efforts with greater vigour when he felt her surrender.
Cloaked in darkness, in that confined carriage bound for Pembrook, the Duke of Alsworth tutored his Duchess on the matter of flexibility of human body.
London
"What do you mean you cannot find him, you useless mutt! Do you have any idea of the trouble we will be in if he came to know the truth?"
"My Lord, we are trying our best. All my men are looking for him everywhere and-"
"But, it is not enough! I shall have your head if you do not find him in time!"
"I..of course, My Lord. I shan't disappoint you," The man bowed meekly and walked away.
"Darling, come to bed," A sultry voice called him and the regal - looking man huffed in annoyance. He could feel a headache building.
How could everything have gone awry so badly? It was all supposed to end, yet everything had come undone.
Heavens help me if Edward came to know. He shall destroy me! The man quailed in fear at the very thought.
Turning back he retraced his steps from the tastefully decorated private sitting room to the chamber where the lovely courtesan awaited him. Earlier in the day, he had escaped the clutches of his hag of a wife to spend some time in his favourite brothel. Yet, his man had traced him here, that too to give the bad news...the news of his failure.
Worthless the lot of them! He thought bitterly.
Entering the chamber, he found the woman lying on the sinfully crimson sheets with nary a stitch on her lissom body. He immediately hardened at the sight of her.
"Turn around, whore!" He spat as he removed the dressing gown he had hastily donned to meet his man.
Smiling seductively, the woman turned on all fours and he mounted her from behind, spanking her harshly.
"Filthy whore!" He growled as he rutted in her writhing body like a fiend, his frustration and anger fuelling him on. Yet, the act was not enough to curb his raging emotions. Even the pleasure of flesh was unable to distract him as he thought of the repercussions for him if the truth was unveiled...the truth of his actions more than five and twenty years ago. He was afraid and that made him brutalise the woman pleasuring him.
When he finally came apart on her behind, the courtesan was covered in bruises and bled from her nose. Grimacing, he threw on his clothes. He had to pay extra because he had hurt the wench which further exacerbated his spleen. He was facing financial difficulties as it was. With a murderous glare at the unconscious woman, he threw a pouch of money on the bed and marched out, his frustration still not quelled. Instead, fear had him in its icy hold, squeezing his heart in a vice - like grip. He should have done what he had originally planned...he should not have allowed himself to be influenced by a madman.
Damn Edmund Cullen to the fiery pits of Hades!
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