The Seduction (Notorious 1)
Vanessa gasped.
“How deep do you want me inside you?” he asked provocatively as he thrust upward another inch.
“Deeper… please…”
Damien obliged, and it was more than she could bear. The inflammatory pleasure spread through her body, instant and all-consuming, and she began to move helplessly, grinding her sex against him.
When she pleaded with him for release, he finally took pity on her and caught her gyrating hips, holding her still and matching each silken thrust to her breathless rhythm. Vanessa answered with all the vigor in her trembling body.
She came almost at once. With a low groan, she fell forward on top of him, shoving her face against his warm shoulder to bury her burgeoning scream.
When eventually she recovered her dazed senses, she found herself draped over him languorously, while he was still huge and hard inside her.
Damien’s amused voice sounded in her ear. “Your eagerness is highly flattering, sweeting, but I see our next lesson should be on the art of control.”
Those sessions left her breathless and trembling, and made her task of protecting herself all the more difficult. To her dismay, Vanessa felt herself falling further under Damien’s sinfully erotic spell. He was like a potent drug, obsessing her senses and addicting her to his touch. She found herself struggling desperately against her newly awakened desires and the enticing wickedness of his caresses.
Far more dangerous, though, were the powerful emotions he aroused in her. She feared the tenderness most. There were times during the quiet, intimate moments after carnal lust had been spent when it was hard for her to remember that their relationship was strictly professional. Yet she knew that if she hoped to shield her heart, she would have to dissociate herself from any and all feelings for him.
He spoke to her about practical matters as well as sexual ones-things she would need to know if she were to spend her future gracing the beds of rakes. He described what would be expected of her outside the bedroom, in the glittering salons and fashionable ballrooms of London. He advised her on the considerations she could expect in the way of jewelry and clothing, carriages and horses, houses and furnishings. He emphasized the importance of pretending an avid interest in her male companions, smiling at inane conversations, flirting with fops enamored with their own self-consequence, hanging on their every word, no matter how boring a spirited, intelligent woman might find them. He told her how to capitalize on the natural talents she possessed.
“Beauty is an asset, certainly, but that alone doesn’t always make a woman desirable.”
“If not beauty, then what?”
“Any combination of qualities can be arousing-a keen wit, a facile charm, a certain liveliness, a stylish flair, a subtle sensuality. Demeanor can be a greater temptation than even physical attributes. Even a plain Jane can prove irresistible if she has other merits in her favor.”
Vanessa studied Damien curiously. “Have you ever found any woman irresistible?”
His mouth curved in a cynical smile. “A few. For a time. I make it a point never to allow my interest to be held for long.”
Vanessa fell silent, remembering the reason Damien had given her for keeping away from her bed. Our association was becoming too heated for my peace of mind…
That was why Damien had ended his pursuit of her, she realized. Why he had withdrawn emotionally from her when it seemed their intimacy was growing too intense. He was determined to hold himself apart from her and never allow his emotions to become involved.
She felt her own heart constrict with regret for the loss, yet she couldn’t allow herself the luxury of sorrow.
At those times particularly-during his dispassionate lectures where they cold-bloodedly plotted to ensnare an unsuspecting protector for her-Vanessa wondered if she could carry out her plan.
She didn’t like to think of having to give her body to any other man. Indeed, the only man she could see in the intimate role of protector was Damien.
Yet her assessment was still rational. After having known the patronage of the notorious Lord Sin, she should be able to make an excellent liaison elsewhere, and her sisters would be safe from penury.
If there were moments when she felt a wave of despair at the course she had chosen, she grimly pushed it aside. There were many names for the role she was attempting to learn-high flier, bird of paradise, Cyprian, courtesan… but the bald, unvarnished truth was, she was learning how to be a whore. An expensive, elegant whore, admittedly. But still a whore. Yet she could not afford squeamishness or sentimentality.
She would not be the first woman to earn her livelihood between the sheets. There were any number of successful courtesans who had learned to live by their wits and beauty alone. Besides, the role of mistress was far preferable to that of wife. A wife was infinitely more vulnerable to a man’s tyranny. Upon marriage a woman lost control of her fortune, her children, even her body.
And in many respects the life of a courtesan would actually be liberating. She would no longer have to feel trapped by society’s rigid dictates and hypocritical judgments.
And so she forced herself to learn well the lessons Damien so expertly taught.
His second goal was to make her comfortable with her own body.
“You are an apt pupil, sweeting, but you still have much to learn about lovemaking. We have scarcely begun to explore the depths of your passion…”
To that end, he introduced her to the delights of scented oils and body massage. For the lesson he spread several sheets over the chaise lounge to protect the brocade, then instructed her to undress. When Vanessa suggested he be the one to lie naked on the chaise lounge instead of her, Damien shook his head.
“No, lie back and enjoy your lesson. You should experience the pleasures of manual stimulation for yourself so you understand how best to arouse your lover.”