Excerpt from Torn Asunder by Kiki Howell
The roses, elegant in their refinement, fell from one
another with little grace as she undid the paper around them. Staggering back a
few steps until her back met the wall, she slid down to
the floor letting the wrapping and flowers fall where they may. Aubrey wrapped
her arms tightly around her midsection. Her chest ached more with each beat of
her heart as she swallowed hard, blinked away the mistiness over her eyes, and
remembered.
It had been the beginning of the season, a bit over a
fortnight ago, when she first encountered Edmund Bryant, the Marquess of
Dalysbury. Although she rolled her eyes still at the title, she felt compelled
to live through it all again—through the days of fantasy in which she had allowed
herself to participate. Love at first sight didn’t always give way to rational
thinking. The feelings did, however, make possible the wavering delusions of
believing impossible dreams could come true.
At the time, she had just come to London to live with her
cousins, Lord and Lady Sanderly. They had paid for her travels under the guise
of giving a poor relation of marriageable age a chance to find a good husband.
The truth of the matter was, she had shown a great aptitude for learning the
magical powers inherited through their line. The good Lord and Lady, while
holding the public titles of Earl and Countess, were descendants of one of the
notorious Pendle witches. They were to teach her to harness and utilize her
innate talents in secret while flaunting her about from various parties and
balls in the public eye.
She recalled with a weak smile the first ball Lord and Lady
Sanderly had thrown to immerse her into proper society. Gripping her hands
before her waist to resist fidgeting, she had tried hard to fix to memory all
of the titles of those to whom she was being introduced. Her level of
discomfort had increased. An unsettled awareness of someone in the room, an
almost haunting premonition, had made her heart race and her mouth dry. She had
paid no mind to the successive shivers which rushed the length of her spine
until they pooled as heat in her tightening stomach.
Reminded she was holding her breath only when she was forced
to speak, she found her ribs had begun to ache. When a chill more pervasive than
any she had ever known, even in the drafty county cottage she had been raised
in, permeated her shoulders, she had turned in the direction of the source. Her
eyes met with a man standing just across the room looking back at her. She
immediately felt challenged to not look away from the gaze of his dark eyes.
They radiated a raw energy unlike anything she had ever encountered before,
even among those with her own esoteric abilities.
A connection was made. Her heart beat at a frantic, uneven
pace like a horse racing over shoddy roads. At the same time, a vague
forewarning had made her break out in a glistening of sweat. She fought the
urge to escape the room as well the need to move toward the man. She had given
merit to her reactions based only on the fact she had captured the glance of an
aristocratic gentleman. He had a lady on his arm, one of obvious higher
circumstances in a lavish satin gown.
Engrossed in the man’s fine manners, she watched as he
removed himself from his current audience. His tempestuous form in posh attire
spun on the heel of his expensive footwear to find her again with his haunted
and hungry eyes. He seemed an odd mix of rugged and refined. She had felt the
thrill and danger of being pursued by a beast which lurked inside of the man.
As if he was just happening by, he had paused before her and
spoken greetings to Lady Sanderly. If his perfection could have been improved
upon, he had managed it. Charm sang from his mouth. The spicy smell of him
embraced her.
“I thank you, my Lord. Allow me to introduce to you to my
cousin,” Lady Sanderly said as she moved between them. She placed her hands
upon both of their arms. “May I present The Most Honourable, The Marquess of
Dalysbury, and this, My Lord, is Miss Aubrey Griffen. She is lovely, is she
not?” A touch of electricity had tingled up her arm, and she remembered Lady
Sanderly had teased her of her overabundance of excitement later.
Aubrey had curtsied as Lady Sanderly taught her to upon
meeting men of his rank, albeit he appeared a bit exaggerated in stance to suit
her tastes. All the while, she had blushed while the Lady went on about her so.
She had thought, at the time, she was putting it on a little thick even for
their purposes. This train of thought was shattered at the memory of the
Marquess taking her hand to lightly brush a kiss over the back of it. A
capricious sting of tears threatened behind her eyes.
“She is,” he had said with an indistinct, but sonorously
grave tone. “I was caught by her beauty from across the room, and could not
force myself to wait my turn in meeting her.”
“Lord Dalysbury,“ Lady Sanderly had tittered in a way Aubrey
had never heard before. She would have often wondered at the aristocratic pomp
if she had not known her cousin so well. However, since she did, she knew it
could only be an air she assumed because it was much expected of her. “You are
such a gentleman. Is your mother to be in attendance tonight?”
“She is, but I fear she likes to make late, but grand
entrances.” His smile had been charming, and yet, she could see he had stifled
it to some degree. Since some things become clearer the more one thinks upon
them, and given what she knew now of his mother, it seemed no longer strange at
all. The Dowager Marchioness of Dalysbury liked to make good use of her
standing to intimidate the masses beneath her in order to amass her whims.
At the time, however, she had wondered at the curious nature
of his many discrepancies. Having fought the need to touch him in order to
decipher further the divergences of his feelings, she had focused on her own
unfounded fears. She sensed her own frailty in his presence despite the
supernatural power she knew she could wield over him.
Her sudden, intense desire to know him had infiltrated her
usual cautiousness even as she idly listened to the conversation continuing
between him and Lady Sanderly. Since the Lady had brought up his mother, his
tone had switched to a suave satin while his answers had became gruff and
monosyllabic.
Aubrey had tried to emulate a Lady’s refinement, chiming in
when she could until Lady Sanderly was abruptly called away by Lord Sanderly.
This left her standing with Lord Dalysbury. She feigned meek and timid,
although in the usual play of things she had no lack of the assuredness of her
own character.
“What have you most liked about your first days in London?
The weather has been most agreeable for you, I do believe,” he stated.
She appreciated his diversion.
“It has, but I fear I am more of a bluestocking lady myself.
I daresay, I have not ventured much past the garden to read.” While she
perpetuated the bluestocking persona to cover her intense study and practice of
magic, it could not be a truer representation of her nevertheless.
“What have you read since you were here?” He stammered the
words as if he was not used to discussing such a lofty subject with a woman.
“Just this morning, I finished Hester Chapone’sLetters on
the Improvement of the Mind.” She squared off her shoulders and smiled
demurely as she could manage.
“Such a keen consciousness.” He shook his head as he spoke.
“Do you read Mary Shelley?”
“Yes. I last read Loves of Poets.”
As she reflected on their conversation, she sighed at the
haunting vision of him. She seemed helpless to stop the antics of her mind.
Never had she quite let herself think upon the why of their relationship. She
had merely been swept away by love at first sight and given leave of rational
thoughts for moments of bliss she may never have the chance at again. Looking
back with a clearer vision now, she had pushed aside all propriety to follow
the desires of her quickly won heart. She had followed the needs of her body
for what she knew could only be a short-lived, secret affair. Better to have
loved and lost than not to have loved at all had been the faulty proverb of
her days. More like bad advice, or an easy excuse to have relations with a man
with whom she could share no future.
In those first days, there had been numerous moments of
inappropriately stolen kisses, improper grazes of his hands, and lengthy
glances across crowded rooms all at the most dangerous of moments. This
shocking behavior, despite the fact that he was believed by society to be
openly courting The Lady Elizabeth Ward, the daughter of a duke, for the love
of all that is holy! Their courting had been more of a family business
arrangement than a veritable romance. A Marquess and the daughter of a Duke to
be wed for a gain in social standing and in covering over a mounting disaster
of family finances. He had raged over the situation just days into their torrid
affair while he walked with Aubrey at a garden party.
In her mind, they walked and talked again.
“Since meeting you, I see the faults of a marriage of
convenience, one to gain station and to please the obligations set out by
family. How, after knowing such passion with you, can I allow myself to be a
mere pawn in a parental game of who shall marry whom? I cannot surrender my
life for family alliances!”
“But, you must. There is no way around it. You have
obligations, and thus it seems aristocratic children end up…”
“Powerless,” he cut her off. “I feel utterly powerless over
my own future, like I was just sold to the highest bidder for position and
reputation.”
“The Lady Elizabeth Ward…” The name had burned her throat
burgeoning a barrage of tears she fought to suppress, “is better suited to be
your wife than a poor relation of an Earl.” With secrets that await scandal
if brought into the limelight of those of your rank.
She recalled how his sigh had meshed with her own. His tone
became more forlorn in recognizing the truth of her words.
“Before I met you, I used to think the same. If one
considers the facts as they could be scrolled onto parchment then she does
suit. Her lineage is as faultless as her manners. She has been trained to be
the wife of a Duke or a Marquess and the mother of heirs. We do produce easy
conversation, although we never share words of importance. I dare proclaim it
is much the same with any talk within the ton.”
“This is why marriage within your own rank will make your
life easier. It is the practical and the wise choice. Other than meeting you, I
do prefer my own world to being whirled about in yours. This knowledge, I have
gained from my time in London. Do not worry for me. It is far preferable to
have had the chance to shower love upon that person who fulfills you like no
other and to hurt once they are gone than to have never known or made love to
them at all.” Her string of words had tumbled from her mouth. She had tried to
express what was in her heart, but she was making a cake of herself in the
attempting of it. Yet, her use of the word love had been intentional.
She had wanted to say it to him, but known better. It would only cause problems
for them both, having known even then she would have to leave. She could not bear
to see him marry another, and that was the one thing which would dictate her
future.
As if he had read her thoughts, which seemed an uncanny
habit of his, he had said, “We all know of at least one person who has stood
for love and married beneath them. It could be me! I can weather the scandal of
walking away from an advantageous marriage and still fulfill the obligations of
my position. I do not care one wit what society thinks of me! Often one is
surprised to find society is not as harsh a council as one thought it to be.”
“I love you for even thinking it, but you are dreaming, my
Lord. And, what if it all falls apart around you? What then? You have others to
think of. We have only just met. We do not know of each other enough to make
such rash decisions.” Those were the only choices she did make where he was
concerned, but in this one matter, she could not allow it to be so. She tried
to maintain some distance between them for his sake.
“There is time for us to decide. I am not being pressured
with a time frame to ask for her hand as of yet. I could make you fall in love
with me in time. I could set us up a house in the country. Could you not see me
in a shabby coat with a few shaggy dogs at my feet when I do not have to be in
attendance in London? Or, we could flee to America and be done with it all.”
“How absurd both ideas are. You are banking a lot on a few
illicit meetings. Besides, you could never live with yourself having hurt Lady
Elizabeth and your mother. You shall have to let me go. Honestly, I am not the
lady of your youthful dreams, am I?”
“No, you are so much more than I ever dreamed possible for
myself. You are truly a rare person, and I am in awe of all I know you to be.
You have humbled this aristocrat. So, then let me ask you, am I the man of your
dreams?”
“No,” she had laughed fully. “I had more in mind a man with
no wealth and no title to speak of. I…” she had left off before she could slip
and admit to having thought she would marry a man of magic. It did not seem to
matter to her now. There was another sort of magic she had then not been aware
of. It is the magic of uniting two souls meant by the universe to be together
even if society claims they are not to be permitted such happiness.
“I must be with you, fully as a man and a woman can. I must
have at least that, please. I must know one night with you. I must have it in
my memory to endure the lot which is my life. Please tell me you want me as
much as I desire to have you.”
His words had sounded scandalous. Yet, the sexual tension
between them had been so viable she could actually see the sparks stemming from
the energy which grew within her each day. She knew he had a part in that as if
he had powers of his own and was gifting them to her. Although, a sillier
notion there never was. Just being with the man who dominated both her heart
and soul had made her better for the knowing of him.
“How can we take such a chance? There are too many to be
hurt.” Like me, she thought, although she did wonder upon which choice
could possibly make her future without him worse. She cringed at the idea of
what he would be able to do with his wife each night once they were wed. The
torture in the days to come would be set upon such thoughts each night.
“A single decision can forever change how it is we bear the
rest of our lives. We will not get the chance back. I shall be married, and you
shall be gone. You have said as much, have you not?”
“Where and when?” She had heard the words come from her
mouth and chose to let them be. There would be dreadful consequences in their
future either way. Why not have a moment of pure bliss, utter happiness,
before our lives are torn asunder for our remaining days.
The tears now fell freely along with her memories. Only days
ago they had shared a first night of passion, as they had discussed. What was
to be their first and last sexual relations had continued through successive
nights. They had found more times and more ways to slip into each others arms,
naked and free.
She picked up a rose which had fallen to the floor and put
it to her nose. The fragrance brought back that infamous moment when they first
joined. Roses, much the same, he had given her on that night too.
Even though the reminiscing was killing her, she let herself
go back to the intimate party she had attended while staying the weekend with
Lord and Lady Sanderly at the grand estate of The Earl of Gainsborough. To her
delight, they had found another moment to walk a garden together. This time he
had begged her with his eyes and then his words. She had become momentarily
hesitant about such a monumental happening, the loss of her virginity. Since
she knew she would suffer the loss of him the remainder of her days, this was
probably her only chance to feel a man hard inside of her.
“Please forgive me, but I must have you. I must make love to
you,” he had begged.
“I want the same, but it feels most improper, still. Years
of teachings, I suppose, of how to be a proper lady.”
“I can feel the heat radiating off of you. I know you want
me.”
She blushed, not understanding how he could have known of
the wet heat building thick in her core, making her damp with desires she had
only heard about.
“Your blushing tells me I am right.”
“My blushing is only confirmation of your sincere
impropriety,” she countered, not meaning the words.
“You want me.”
“How can I want what I know not of?” It had been a lie of
course. She had studied the grimoires of many witches who had written of using
the energy gotten of sex to power spells. She had become mesmerized in all of
the lurid details, feeling her body tingle and pulse much as it was doing now.
“Say yes. Please! I apologize, I know I owe it to you, but I
can’t help myself. It is as though you have bewitched me, and I can’t hold back
my desires.”
She had gone stiff at his use of the word bewitched.
She recollected the raw lust coming from him as something she had never felt,
even around the most lecherous of men. Did I do something unknowingly to him?
She fretted the idea now as she did then. Could it be why he wanted me? Did
he not have his own true lusts and desires?
“I am sorry. I won’t ask again. Relax.” He had rubbed her
arms, sending the warm remnants of friction meddled with touch through her
body. “I will gain control over myself somehow.” She had seen the obvious bulge
in his trousers and turned to go until he had released a moan of anguish.
“I am afraid,” she offered.
“I won’t hurt you anymore than nature necessitates.”
“I don’t understand why I am even considering throwing away
a lifetime of propriety on this moment. It is insane.” What if I have
bewitched you, and you are not acting of your own volition?
Her chest tightened, suffocating her. In her mind she had
always thought love would have no place in her magical life unless she happened
upon a man with her powers. She had thought she could not give herself to a man
who knew not the whole of her. Men like him, normal men, could never understand.
She had been through these arguments in her head a thousand times since meeting
him, and she knew it was only her fears seeking them out again. Her final
thoughts on the matter had gone as such. If they were to be together only once,
and she must leave him anyway, it would not matter if he knew not the truth.
She let the scene move forward once again as she brushed her
fingers over the silkiness of a rose petal, lost in her recollection as if it
was happening once more. She remembered their breath meshing between them,
coming out fast as they stood facing each other, frozen in their desires. His
visage had been as grim as her treacherous heart in want of him. All the
appropriate responses had left her, and she wondered the harm that could come
of such a tryst.
“Come to me tonight after all others have retired. My door I
will leave slightly ajar once the house is quiet.” Her words had tumbled out
before she had time to finish thinking it all through. She abruptly left him to
find a quiet bench to compose herself upon.
He had done as she had instructed. Her current existence
darkened around her once more, and she stood there again when he shut the door
to her room that fateful night. He had been but a gentleman for one more
moment. He had proceeded to stalk her back toward the bed as he asked, “Are you
sure? I may have but one last ounce of restraint to get me out of here if you
are not.”
“Yes.”
The word had barely left her mouth when, in one
heart-stopping expanse of time, he picked her up off of her feet and pinned her
body under his. His eyes had darkened as something raged behind them. He ran
his hands down her sides in a gentle caress that had an ounce of violence to
it, laced within pressure and intent. She felt him holding back a huge amount
of energy. The power came at her in surges, overwhelming her sensibilities and
catching her breath.
She was overflowing, on the other hand, with many unfamiliar
yet wondrous emotions as his mouth descended upon hers. A pulse beat more
frantically in her most secret of places as he wrapped his arms around her
waist and pulled her lower body more fiercely against his. Her softness gave
way to his hardness, and she became as pliable as his cravat, which was falling
from his neck despite all the starch. The bulge of his cock from earlier now
filled the space between her thighs.
Whatever shyness she had, whatever reservations, they had
misted from her like steam from her heated skin. She started ripping at his
coat and shirt. When her hand hit the skin of his chest, a spark of electricity
went through each of her fingers.
He had let go of her then, moving off of her and to her side
as he started to pull on her gown. She helped him by moving as needed until he
had divested her of her corset and chemise and stockings too.
“My, but I have never seen one before so beautiful,” he had
exclaimed in a faltering voice as he knelt beside her. He stared like she was
food to be devoured. She had not even the will to move her head back and forth
in rebuttal.
When he grabbed for his trousers, he begged, “Please don’t
turn away.”
He proceeded to remove them along with his stockings and
boots. His cock stood out, proudly bouncing a little with his movements. There
was nothing that had ever prepared her for the sight of this naked man in front
of her. He was brawn under a shroud of satin skin, with chiseled muscles
accentuating each curve of his abdomen, legs and arms. She had tried to wet her
dry lips as he reached for her hand. Brushing across the curve of her belly,
his touch sent a current of electricity that set what already pulsed to
twittering.
Next, he had moved her hand to his arching erection, running
her fingers over the reddened staff. The skin was soft while the bulk of it was
unyielding. He guided her over him, showing her what to do, then cupped her
hand and moved it to the tight sacs at its base. She touched lightly upon the
tight band of skin beneath them. With his teeth clenched, he growled, alarming
her. He never allowed her to remove her hand from him while he climbed back up
on the bed.
He rubbed over her breasts, making her yearn more for him in
the lower regions of her body. Her nipples tightened and pebbled under his
touches. Erotic sensations mingled then merged into pure ecstasy when his mouth
finally came down to suckle her. She had never felt so perfectly warm. The
rhythm of his deep pants increased as she felt her way around his cock in an
untaught manner which seemed to make it twitch in her hand. He shuddered
against her.
Soon, he had moved from her reach as his kisses trailed
lower. His fingers met with the curls at the apex of her thighs. They drifted
over the soft folds, opening them to discover her most secret spot. Thus, he
released the most wanton of desires she had no idea she even possessed. She was
grateful to be lying down as she felt she would swoon when she let her legs
fall apart as far as they would go. When his fingers caressed her wet skin, her
hips arched up toward him. Then, he caught the swollen nub there in his lips
and flicked at it with his tongue. A wave of contractions had tightened her
stomach. She let free a cry which he moved up her body to stifle quickly with
his mouth. His lips were wet with her juices. The contractions continued with
the fall of his erection over the highly sensitized nub. His tongue plundered
her mouth.
He lifted his hips, setting his cock at her opening. She
tensed, awaiting the pain she had heard would now come. He had been patient as
much as he was frantic, moving in slowly until he pierced through the last
piece of her which could give him any pause for concern.
“I am so sorry,” he whispered gently when she tensed. She
knew he had ceased moving while he waited for her to confirm it safe for him to
continue. The ache died away as she felt her body conform and grip around his.
“I am fine, My Lord.”
He pulled back, looking upon her quizzically, but an evil
smile took his face. He thrust in and out of her, drawing ripples of pleasure.
The sensations had built and built until she tumbled with them over the edge of
the precipice to ride out the waves of the most indefinable, exquisite bliss
she had never fathomed. His seed had shot warm into her, moving her back to the
build again for a moment before her core contracted in tiny ripples. Leaving
her relaxed and sated, he fell flat onto her. She had felt all-encompassed by
him, and safe in all that had just happened because of it.
“I cannot apologize for what just happened here. It was too
perfect, too unbelievable, to utter such insane words for.”
She had sensed mutual adoration, hesitant then to call it
love even in her mind.
“You never have to,” she had answered.
| 
Comments
Post a Comment
Thank you for commenting. I will respond when I can, if you are a new follower let me know and leave a link to your blog so I can follow back.
Michie