My first phanwank!
Chapter 6
Seduction
Left alone in the Westcott Inn’s dining room, the Marquess (Marquis?)of Brookridge ordered a brandy and waited. He’d promised his companion that he would allow her some private time upstairs in her room - time to freshen up and time to decide if she wanted to invite him in for the night.
Gratefully, Mary did not return from the kitchen to visit with him further. He was not in the mood for small-talk and facing his Gerard butler’s mother, a woman who had been much like a mother to him as well, would certainly put a damper on his current state of mind.
Stephen Hawkins muttered silent curses at the slow progression of the wall clock. voice recognition computer. He would allow her a half hour, and then he would go upstairs. Surely that was ample time for her to prepare.
In his mind, the decision was already made. He did not seriously question her willingness to admit him; she’d shown her interest in a dozen unspoken ways throughout the evening. Still, something nagged at the back of his neck. Damned fleas. It was an uneasy feeling, as if a piece to the puzzle he was creating had been forced into its place.
Perhaps I am out of practice, he told himself.
Unexpected dalliances with beautiful strangers were not the type of entertainments he normally enjoyed. He was more of a Super Mario Galaxy man. Mistresses were for sexual appetites, while brief encounters with handsome women were usually kept in the far safer realm of flirtation.
This woman had already proven to be quite surprising. He’d enjoyed the afternoon and evening spent talking with her. She was refreshing and unique, but Hawkins could not simply abandon the matter there. He wanted her, with a drive that he could not recall having felt before. And if this frustratingly uneasy feeling refused to abate on its own, he would talk with her, forcing it from existence so that they might move ahead with the pleasurable night he envisioned.
Thirty minutes elapsed before he rose from the table, settled the bill, and left through the same door Christina had used earlier. A long hallway led to the room she occupied, and while the lateness of the hour meant that no other patrons roamed about, he felt their presence beyond closed doors on either side. What, hes Darth Vader now?
The sputtering of oil lamps accompanied his footsteps as Hawkins stepped tentatively to the door. He did not use the handle but pushed the planking itself.
At first he did not notice her, only a large bed with a single candle flickering on the table beside it. A fire burned within the hearth to his left, and it was there that he found her, bathed in the fire’s warming glow.
Her back was to him, one hand placed delicately on the mantle piece with an empty wine glass perched between her fingertips. Her hair was unbound, the light from the fire setting the flowing tresses ablaze in ribbons of gold and red. I threw a bucket of water over her to quench the blaze. Her damned head was on fire, the stupid bint!
He quietly closed the door, placing his hat on a nearby chair before slowly moving toward her.
“Just so that we are clear, Mr. Hawkins . . .”
“Erik,” he corrected.
Her head lifted slightly but she did not turn. “I have allowed you in, Erik, but that does not mean that I need welcome you further.”
He chuckled inwardly, “I am at the lady’s disposal,” he said, moving up behind her so that he could slide a gentle hand down her arm.
An excited shiver rippled through Christina but nerves sent her stepping away. Turning toward him, she motioned to a small table where another wineglass sat beside an opened bottle. “Would you like some more wine?” she asked.
“No, thank you. I had a drink downstairs,” he said, coming closer.
Hard as she tried, Christina could not stop the flutters in her belly. What a time for her diaharea to return. This was what she wanted, she reminded herself. And now, after seeing the dark, smoldering look in Erik’s eyes, after watching the panther-like way he carried a dead gazelle in his mouth his tall, broad-shouldered form toward her, she wanted it all the more. But something inside her would not relent; something was refusing to allow her the simple comfort of steady breathing.
Hawkins’ body had sparked to life the moment he’d entered the room. It's alive! ITS ALIVE!! That long, flowing hair and lean, sensuous body was enough to bring any man to his knees, but it was her eyes that captivated him. Depth and humanity dwelled in those shimmering green pools, but along with it, lived knowledge and pain far more advanced than her tender years should warrant.
Hawk watched her carefully, caught between his fascination at her constant contradictions and the uneasy feeling that he may have miscalculated the situation.
She turned back to the fire, finding it easier staring into the flames rather than his consuming gaze.
Hawk found this little game amusing but still prefered Mario, and moved in behind her, splaying his fingers wide and running them down the length of her silky hair. Christina’s pulse quickened. Unaware that he was watching her in the mirror’s reflection, she allowed her eyes to drop shut out. Curse that cut price laser eye suregery!
This eager response pleased him so he moved even closer, feeling her body’s heat through his clothing, he placed one hand at her waist while the other trailed along her neck, dipping beneath her hair where his fingers began a game all their own. "Catch the flea!
“Have you ever been loved before, Christina?”
Shocked from nervous introspection, her eyes blinked open. “Have I ever been in love?”
“No, sweetheart. Have you ever made love?”
Floundering somewhere between her pride being wounded, the vulgarity of the question, and the realization that he asked it out of concern that she may be like a virgin, touched for the very first time, Christina found herself in the odd position of defending her character while still portraying herself as a wanton woman. Searching for a response, she settled that perhaps deflection was the best approach.
“That’s hardly an appropriate question to ask a lady. I would never presume to ask you such a thing.”
He chuckled vomited into her hair. “No, I’m sure you wouldn’t.” He reached around, turning her within his arms until they faced one another. “You have a face and body that beg to be worshipped, Christina . . .” he ran his index finger down the length of her cheek. “But something in your eyes tells me, no.”
This revelation stunned her, bringing to question what she may have said or done to make him feel she was unwilling.
Looking up at him, Christina sought to clarify her feelings. “Then you’re not looking closely enough,” she murmured.
He bent down, placing a brief, feather-light kiss on her lips. He tasted of Johnsons Baby Rusks Formula brandy and masculinity . . . delicious.
“I cannot harm an innocent,” he murmured.
“You needn’t worry, Erik. I am hardly, innocent and I dont know how commas work.”
It was not a complete lie, she told herself. She had done many sinful things in her life, not the least of which was lusting after a horse named Hercules man who was not her husband.
He looked deeply into her eyes, moments stretching on where he did nothing but gaze at her.
“What do you see?” she whispered.
“Beauty.” "I see no ships", he said, doing his best Nelson impression.
Smiling softly, she placed her fingertips tentatively on his coat-front. “Then kiss me again.”
“As you wish, M’lady.” said Erik, doing his best Parker from Thunderbirds impression. Hawkins ran the pad of his thumb slowly along the plumpness of her lower lip, and then, leaning in, replaced the pressure with his mouth. Gently touching at first, Christina nearly whimpered as the moist warmth of his lips began determinedly caressing hers. Hawkins’ hand slid beneath her hair, applying steady pressure to the nape of her neck, his other hand at the small of her back holding her firmly against him.
It was a slow, lingering assault as drugging kisses clouded Christina’s mind and overwhelmed her body with throbbing sensations. Desperate to taste her, Hawk’s tongue played along the seam of her lips, finding that she responded with shy acceptance, parting her mouth to allow his sensual probing.
Christina slid her hands up his chest, twining them at the back of his neck in the same moment she offered for him, her tongue coaxing and sparing in artless enthusiasm.
A deep groan tore through Hawkins, and he pulled back, just enough to gaze into her swimming eyes.
“Have I been granted permission, M’lady?” His voice was a hoarse, breathless whisper, and hearing the desire within it made Christina’s heart skip a beat.
“Yes,” was the only word she could muster.
Hawkins devoured her once again, this time his hands and lips were more fervent - more desperate. He kissed her lips, her cheeks and her neck, while his hands soothed along her spine, waist, and bottom. Its called an ass.
The wide laces at the back of her dress began to pull apart, damn these cheap gowns, and as the heated air from the fireplace touched her quivering skin, so too did his eager fingers. The gown fell away in a puddle of sunny yellow, Christina cursed her incontinence ruining yet another romantic moment, leaving a trembling Christina exposed in her thin white shift.
Though uncertainty crashed through her body, Christina could not bring herself to put an end to these thrilling sensations. Instinctively, she sought modesty, but rather than shy away from this bold, imposing stranger, she clung to him, somehow believing that she could hide herself against his body.
Hawkins held her firmly, savoring the feel of her softness against his abdomen and her warmth against his hardened thighs, as he liked to bathe in concrete. The scent of orange blossoms tickled his senses and Hawkins bent his head which the doctor had warned him against before, gently kissing her hair.
“Come with me,” he breathed, reaching for her hand as he led her to the bedside. Christina followed his slow, cautious footsteps, watching as he bent down to blow out the room’s one burning candle.
The glow of firelight seemed to soften his masculine features, making him appear younger as he turned back to her, cupping her face in his hands for another absorbing kiss.
“God, you are sweet,” he whispered, while his lips trailed over her cheek and his tongue dipped enticingly into the tender cleft of her ear. He spat out a globule of wax. Not so sweet.
His ministrations sent swirling tendrils of heat pulsating through Christina, making her shiver and stealing away all rational thought. Her hands came up between them, gliding over the muscle of his chest before tucking beneath the lapels of his coat. The garment slipped back over his shoulders where it fell to the floor. Her small fingers then went to the buttons of his shirt, tugging it free from his breeches before depositing it in the same place.
Wide, appreciative eyes took in the bare expanse of his chest, her fingers fanning lightly over his tanned skin as they reveled in a thin blanket of dark hair. mange
Aching to feel her against him, Hawkins slipped the chemise from her body, pulling her roughly to his chest. Long, languorous caresses followed as Hawkins savored the seduction of this unique beauty as much as the inevitable completion.
“Lay down for me,” he said, finally releasing her from his embrace.
Christina looked up dazedly. She wanted him to continue holding her - to kiss her endlessly, but there was more to making love, much more. And although a certain fear beat within her heart, its rhythm was drowned out by the desire surging through her body.
Reluctantly, she tore herself away, climbing beneath the sheets in a rush to be covered and, once again, warm.
Christina could hear him moving beside the bed and knew that he was removing his remaining clothing. She kept her eyes pressed firmly shut for fear of appearing brazen, and even more, fearing that the sight of his masculine form may cause an insurmountable trepidation. He already seemed so powerful and commanding . . . It was only through his gently coaxing manner that she’d been able to quell her body’s impulse to shrink back from these intimacies and hold her apprehensions at bay.
She felt the mattress compress beside her and opened her eyes to find him gazing down into her face. Clutching the sheet to her chest, she smiled shyly back at him.
“You are a sweet one,” he sighed, leaning forward to capture her bruised lips in another all-consuming kiss. (Bruised lips? Did he batter her around first?)
Christina released her hold on the thin barrier, allowing her body to meld into him, filling every hardened gulf with her feminine curves. His fingers traveled her flesh as he kissed her, finally stopping at her breast where he cupped the soft mound in his palm. The warmth and slight coarseness of his hand sent sparks racing through her, but when he dipped his head and took that same breast into his lips, those sparks burst into shooting flame.
He laved and kissed the hardened peak, nudging it upward to partake more fully. Christina was shuddering under these amazing sensations, but just when she thought it could not be anymore blissful, he took her into his mouth, drawing down on the sensitive nipple, ripping an astonished gasp from her lips. Streaking bolts of heat sent her arching back, her fingers lacing into his hair holding him to her in an unspoken demand that this exquisite torture never end. Sorry I have no comments, hard to write when Im one handed...
Christina was writhing, and nearly sobbed in anguish when he pulled back and she felt the cold air against her moistened skin. But before her passion-slowed mind could produce a protest, he’d taken her other breast into his mouth for the same attention, sending her spiraling back into a hazy world of need.
This experience was already more than she’d ever imagined. The feeling of a man embracing her, consuming her, was more thrilling than a dream. Her body’s instinctive reaction to it, and the things this powerful man did to her, was even more shocking. Somehow, in these short hours, she’d come to trust this stranger, so much so that she’d given herself over to him willingly, and more, was now clinging to him in wanton desperation. It made no sense, but right now, reason held little importance. Feeling was all that mattered.
He continued savoring her breast while his hand skimmed over her flat stomach and down her leg, and when his fingers met with the throbbing apex of her thighs, she jolted within his arms.
Hawkins parted her, and, finding the wet evidence of her desire to be too much to bear, groaned deeply within his chest. He looked up at her beautiful face, made even lovelier by its flushed state as she’d thrown her head back against the pillow. He wanted to see her pleasure, and found himself nearly brought to his own completion when he touched the swollen bud at her core and she cried out in ecstasy. agony. "Cut your damned nails!" she shreiked.
“Yes, sweet one. Yes,” he murmured hoarsely, as the clinging young woman pulled him closer, her nails biting into the hardened muscle of his shoulder.
He caught her lips again, they were trying to escape out of the room but he brought them down with a well aimed shot of his rifle, kissing ravenously as he raised his body over hers.
Christina felt a flash of fear as he settled his much larger frame between her legs and the hard evidence of his arousal pressed against her. She bit down on her lower lip, her eyes seeking Erik’s in hopes that she might find reassurance and some additional courage.
Hawk’s answer was to bring his hand between them, holding himself against her where he further stimulated her ripened bead with small, circular movements. Christina’s arms came up around his neck, clutching, using his solidity to steady her quacking body. Shes turning into a duck!
Intoxicated by the innocence with which she surrendered, he gazed back into her passion-filled eyes. “M’lady, do I have your permission?” he asked, in a voice aching with pent up passion.
“Yes , Parker. . . Yes.” Christina loved Thunderbirds roleplay. All she needed were the strings to make it complete.
Slipping one hand beneath her bottom to lift her, Hawkins plunged deep inside ...her bottom???? Eww, burying himself in her soft warmth. Where? Please? Front or back! Clarify or I may not sleep tonight!
A stab of pain ripped through Christina’s body causing her muscles to constrict. She did not cry out in pain but buried her teeth into his shoulder to silence the impulse while raw pangs echoed at her core. Im still none the wiser ...
It took several moments before she realized that Hawkins had not moved further. Even through her initial discomfort, Christina’s body still ached for more, but his unmoving silence frightened her. Too uncertain to either speak or move, she remained still, clinging to him like a child desperate for affection. pocket money
Finally, he raised his head, and the look she saw in his eyes caused her heart to sink.
“Christina . . .” he rasped. “Why did you . . .”
“Shh.” She lifted her head, kissing him meaningfully. “I want this,” she whispered. “I want you, Erik.”
Hawkins’ heart was hammering. His desire for this woman was overwhelming, but now, as the reality of her situation hit him, he could not help but wonder if it was not her innocence that affected him so deeply. He cringed inwardly at the thought.
Christina saw the doubt in his face, and as the guilt of her deception hit her, felt an all-consuming need to rid him of it. “Erik, please . . . make love to me. Please . . .”
Christina realized, in that moment, that not only had she failed to offer him completely honesty, but she’d deceived herself as well. She told herself that tonight was about tasting life, embracing it and refusing to allow fear to impede her. But now, lying beneath the warm body of her lover, she realized that her true desires had been far simpler. The loss of her father, the death of her dreams and the future she had depended on had driven her to seek comfort. She needed the feeling of strong, possessive arms holding her. She wanted to feel the passion and acceptance of another human being, to feel safe with him, but most especially, she needed to feel alive.
How ironic it was that this man should appear in her path at the very moment when she found herself searching for these things. Certainly she had known handsome men before and was not altogether blind to the enjoyment that a flirtation could bring. Still, Erik Hawkins was different. Never before had she felt such an attraction. Even when he had made her angry, she’d felt a spark with him, this indefinable pull, telling her that she must find a way to best him . . . or if not best him, at least find equal footing.
“Say something . . . please, Erik.”
"Come on love, put a bit of minge into it, its like doing a sack of potatoes".
Oblivious to the fact that her gentle pleadings could rival any skilled mistress, Christina kissed and lapped at Hawkins’ neck, her fine nails scraping a tingly path over his arms, back and chest.
Her coaxing had the desired effect as he slid his hand beneath her neck, cradling her head possessively in the curve of one elbow. “You sweet, foolish girl,” he said, burying his lips in hers and kissing her with a depth and affection that sent her mind spinning.
Unable to hold back any longer, he began moving within her.
The muscles that had tightened in defense of his original penetration, now relaxed, allowing Christina to experience the silken friction of his body plunging deep within, only to withdraw and plunge again.
Hawkins was an accomplished lover, and while the women he had taken to his bed were also experienced in the art of love, he found that passion and emotion were often absent from the experience. This fact was not troubling; in fact, he rather preferred it that way. But now, sharing these intimate moments with a woman he’d only just met, Hawk found that it was the presence of those very emotions that spoke to him. It was her wonder and the sincerity of her affection that intensified his desire for an act that had, over time, become merely pleasurable.
The heat growing within him was becoming too powerful to control but Hawkins would not take his pleasure without her. He reached down, gripping Christina’s leg beneath the knee, lifting it high at his side where he held it to allow his deeper penetration as he surged within her.
Moaning in pulsating joy, Christina held desperately to his solid frame, feeling her body reach in search of completeness that only he could provide. She opened her eyes, and felt an emotional tug as she watched his handsome features tense in barely restrained need. He’d been so tender with her, so giving, and now, as they both approached the precipice, he seemed to understand that it was not his gentle manipulations that she wanted most, but the fierce passion of a powerful man, propelling her to rapture.
Savoring the feel of her body engulfing him, Hawk found himself rocked by the extent to which her poignancy moved him. She was pure, and fresh as spring . . . coming into his arms like a lamb. But this lamb had fire. Not like those cockteases in Wales. Just when your interested off they run... bleating all the way. Baaa!!! She was brave, adventuresome, and eager to share the desire smoldering in her heart.
Hawk’s even the author has become to lazy to write his full name out lips came down to meet hers, their primal moans and labored breaths mixing in a sensual cocktail, until finally, Christina fractured around him, (shes made of glass?) crying out as ecstasy surged through every nerve ending in her body. Hawkins watched her face, the beauty of her completion sending him to the peak of rapture immediately after her.
Two damp, satiated bodies lay shuddering together in the echo of their lovemaking. Hawkins rolled to his back, taking a much smaller Christina with him. Honey, I shrunk my bitch!
Still intimately joined, Christina snuggled into the fine, dark downy fluff of his chest. Now that their coupling was complete, she felt unsure how to behave or what to say. All she knew was that a warm, almost giddy feeling had overtaken her while she relished this time, lying in Erik’s arms. This aftermath was nearly as enjoyable as the act itself, and although, somewhere deep inside she knew there should be anxiety for her actions, she refused to allow such thoughts to soil the moment. her knickers.
“Are you all right, sweetheart?”
The deep, raw timbre of his voice touched Christina’s heart. “Yes,” she answered contentedly. A moment passed. “No,” she amended.
Hawkins lifted his head. “No?”
She smiled back at him. “I’m better than all right.”
Lying back, he chuckled. “You’re wicked, little one.”
“Did I frighten you?”
“You know you did.”
Still smiling against him, she remembered her deception, and her expression changed. “I’m sorry I lied to you,” she said, raising her head and gently stroking the shadowed stubble on his chin.
“You should have told me,” he murmured, his voice still coarse and distant from their lovemaking.
“Would it have made a difference?”
“Yes, it would.”
“That’s why I didn’t tell you.”
Hawkins looked up, seeing perfectly disheveled hair and the rosy glow of her cheeks; he felt a renewed pounding within his chest. He wanted to scold her, to explain the difficult position she’d placed him in. He'd never got past page 2 of Karma Sutra as hed had a bad back.
Hawkins was a tough, determined, opinionated man, and despite a sometimes bristly exterior that was often interpreted as cold indifference, he also cared for others. The thought that he might injure anyone was unwelcome. The notion that he may have harmed an innocent, grated at the most sensitive location in his mind. This is a Phantom story, right...?
Sparklingly innocent eyes gazed down at him, and though he may have tried, Hawk could not conjure a critical word. For some reason, this girl tugged at him. For all of her beauty and wit, a hole existed within her. By George, I think hes just figured out the difference between male and female anatomy! Clever boy! Something was missing, a personal emptiness that he recognized well.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“You’re thanking me?”
“Yes,” she giggled. “My future lovers will have a lot to live up to.”
It was a comment made in jest, and despite the fact that he chuckled along with her; Hawkins felt a twinge in his chest.
“Not too many, little one. I couldn’t stand the loss of that sweet innocence.”
“All right, I promise. I’ll never have as many lovers as you.”
Hawkins choked. “You damn well had better not,” he scolded, outraged by the thought.
She giggled again. “Be careful, Mr. Hawkins. You almost sound possessive.”
Choosing to ignore the meaning behind her comment, he reached around her, turning them both onto their sides. “What happened to calling me Erik?”
She smiled. “Erik . . .”
He kissed her again, long lingering kisses that rekindled the fires burning between them. Hawkins was not finished with her yet, and although they had the rest of the night, he knew that he would be far from finished by dawn.
Assured in the knowledge that they would part in the morning, Hawk gave himself over to the lovely creature cradled within his arms. Tonight he would drink deeply from her unique beauty, but with the raising sun he would leave, forcing her into that corner of his mind where only vague memories of senseless, lustful conquests dwelled.
TBC