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As he looked again, he saw his valet talking to Peter and she turned towards the servants’ entrance. In haste, he left his chambers and walked to the servants’ stairs, deserted at this time of the day, as all the staff wandered about their duties.
Sarah climbed the stairs, still laughing at Peter’s jokes, when she felt someone pull her by the arm, to a remote niche under the stair case. She gasped startled. She did not need to look up to see who did it. The shrill that ran through her body enough.
“Having fun out there with the driver?” He asked in a mocking voice as he pulled her up against the wall, his tall body almost touching hers.
“My lord, I just…” Her head bent back and her wide eyes met his, lips parted, startled.
“Do not ‘my-lord’ me!” He interrupted in a hiss. “My name’s Hugh!” His body pressed on hers, his hands holding her upper arms.
“I-I…” His body pressing on hers begun to heat her up. Sensation cut through her womb, as she registered a growing bulk pressing her belly.
“What? You want him to be your first?” The sardonic tone hurt more than just her ears.
“I don’t…” She observed the rage in his dark eyes and lost her words. He seemed nearly out of his mind! She touched his arms lightly to try to calm him down. To no avail.
Her parted lips, the touch of her hands, her wide eyes brought him to boiling rage mixed with mindless desire. How could she so much as glance at other men?
He jerked his hands away from her upper arms. He fumbled with the fly on his trousers. “Isn’t this enough?” He uttered angrily.
When she lowered her head, she saw his thick hard member resting on her belly. Oh, god! It WASso big! With a mixture of fear and fascination, she touched its tip. Curiosity led her hand further, feeling its warm texture. No way would she be able to accommodate that. She hungered for it anyway. Her hand closed around it. He sighed. Fascinated, she massaged it. She could not take her eyes from it, so she missed the tortured expression on his face. Her forefinger came back to its tip and played with it. It started weeping. She felt like licking it. Startled with her thoughts she took her hand away from it.
He closed his eyes, a long sigh coming from his colourless lips, all rage forgotten. “It’s all yours, Sarah. All for you, because of you!” He murmured in a hoarse voice.
How could he think that she had any interest in Peter, when the mere sight of him just enough to melt her? He, the only one occupying her mind during every minute of the day and her dreams at night. Her fingers closed irresistibly around him again, exploring, enjoying.
He moaned softly. “Sarah…I can’t live like this any longer!” His arms locked around her waist and his mouth came on hers as if it came from the desert. His bent body enfolded her petite one and they dived in their hazy, steamy world.
He kissed her over and over, turning his head right and left for better access. She met him in every move, raking her hands in his smooth jet-black hair, registering his member pressing on her belly. She surrendered to him in an abandoned way, giving in to all the things he did to her body.
When he lifted his head, they were both panting, her lips moist and swollen. Eyes glued on his, Sarah re-did his fly. Reality intruding.
“My lord, I must go back to my duties.” Curtsying, she left him before he could stop her.
He just stood there in the dimly lit niche, amazed at how she’d turned his rage around, making him twist in his desire, with a hunger more intense than anything he’d experienced in his thirty-three years of existence.
Every time they got near each other, combustion happened. His mind shut down, his body went in overdrive. Capable only to her. Touch her as he fantasised in his restless nights. Talking felt so superfluous! He wanted to sense her, feel her, look at her! There had never been time for more. Something invariably interrupted them. She remained always on duty. How frustrating! He wanted her all for himself.
Hugh left the house in his phaeton, since he had ordered it, to get Peter away from Sarah. A ride would do him good, for sure.
In the weeks that followed, Sarah worked, ate, walked about in a total state of absence. Her mind constantly on him, re-living all the moments she had in his arms, his kisses, his caresses, the bliss. She remembered each tiny detail of his face, replayed every single word he uttered. She could not get enough. She felt like she drowned in want, in desire, in need! How could she go on like this? When would this end?
Still, she kept out of his way. She became afraid of her own weakness towards him. Every time he came around, she could not resist him. Sometimes, she did not even try. She felt as she walked to the edge of a precipice without being able to stop. But she had to.
Hugh started spending a lot of time in his club. Especially in the evenings. Whenever there had not been any of those endless social events, so eagerly attended by his irreproachable wife, he would take refuge in his club. The nights? The nights were pure hell. Tossing, turning, dreaming. She persisted in his mind, though. Day or night. He had been practising more sports in a vain attempt to spend himself so hard, in order to be able to get some numb sleep. To no avail. The tossing and turning would always be there.
It would be a good time to go to his wife, since his body got the best of him. In his social circle, wives did not deign themselves for sexual satisfaction. They existed to be respected. And this had to be the crux of the question. Wives had to be treated as ladies, even in bed. They had blue-blood in their veins. Of course, married ladies would take lovers too. But then they were not their lovers’ wives, were they? How could he get any physical satisfaction in a marriage if in bed he had to be a gentleman, not a man. Marriages were bound to be artificial partnerships. And his beautiful wife did not appeal to him. No woman did. Except…
Sarah awoke happy. It would be her day off. Peter’s day off, too. After asking her if she had any plans for today, he invited her for a picnic in the park. She accepted, glad that she had the opportunity to be away from the Hawkmore house for a couple of hours. So she dressed a simple green dress, a cheap hat and a practical coat and met Peter at the servants’ entrance. She had packed a book and an old bed-throw that she found in the attic. They would stop by a tavern and pick up some food for the picnic.
It WASearly and Lady and Lord Hawkmore still remained in their chambers. Sarah felt glad that she did not stumble upon him. She had been very careful to keep out of his w
ay lately and he had been out a lot. She did not want to dwell on what he could have been doing, or she would go crazy. What if he had taken a mistress? A sophisticated, curvy-bodied, experienced courtesan that would satisfy him in ways she could not imagine. Oh, dear! The thought alone got her sick! She was a nobody. Unsophisticated. Unskilled in bed. She would be no match for any of the women he used to mix with. But she preferred to die than to let him know how she felt about it.
In the end, she had a very pleasant day in the park, even though the weather persisted in its greyness, for a variation. Peter proved to be an excellent company and kept her entertained with his funny stories. He became fast a good friend.
Hugh woke up mid-morning after an awful night’s sleep. He and Duncan had agreed on a fencing session that morning, so he called for his carriage. Mr Alcott came to tell him that Peter had his day off and that a footman would substitute him. The footman held the carriage door opened as Hugh exited his town house.
“Good morning, my lord. I’m to substitute Peter today.” He curtsied.
