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He had walked from the stables to the gardens of the castle and was enjoying the colors and fragrances of the flowers his mother kept in organized show along the pathways when he heard familiar quick steps running behind him and turned in time for a small blizzard of white ruffles and blue bows to bounce into his arms with abandon.
“Oh, Win, it is wonderful you are here!” Rosie danced up to him and threw her arms around him with the ease of a young sister. “Your papa gave me the most wonderful puzzle. It is full of letters and numbers and symbols. And I deciphered it in one hour. The Marquess, he is so happy!”
The joyful greeting she gave him that afternoon in the garden of his family’s country estate as she threw herself into his arms chattering about the latest in code games she had finished with his father sent an uncontrollable urge through his body to take and possess her that he was barely able to control. At eighteen, he was used to feeling desire at every turn: a look, a smile, a glimpse of ankle, a generously endowed chambermaid, a small rounded bottom wiggling on the street in front of him never failed to bring him to attention. These were all temptations that came to every healthy young male, and his appetites were as healthy as most his age, although having a diplomat for a father did mean he was learning discretion in all of his dealings with the fair sex. He indulged some desires, but mostly just enjoyed the bounty, preparing for the long banquet spread before a young sprig of the ton before he gave in to the need to provide his family title with an heir.
So, the overwhelming desire to grab the hand of the girl who was as close to a sister as he had ever known, drag her to the farthest corner of the garden, pound into her and stamp her as always belonging to him frightened him. She was only fourteen, small, but fully formed, with a lovely ripe bosom pressed against his chest as she threw her arms around him, a tiny waist he grasped as he pulled away from her and fine rounded hips his fingers trailed as he released her. He turned away for a moment trying desperately to will his towering desires to subside. When he turned back, everything had changed.
Her long black hair hung in loosely waving locks about her heart shaped face. Large brown eyes framed by heavy curly lashes below black winged eyebrows arched in query. A straight nose with a slight tilt at the end, a rosy bow of a mouth currently shaped in an “O” and creamy off-white skin with its usual blush of health seemed suddenly to glow bright pink as she continued to look into his eyes. Small high arched feet usually dancing on tip toe to be tall enough to be noticed and expressive birdlike hands were suddenly stilled.
He had walked from the stables to the gardens of the castle and was enjoying the colors and fragrances of the flowers his mother kept in organized show along the pathways when he heard familiar quick steps running behind him and turned in time for a small blizzard of white ruffles and blue bows to bounce into his arms with abandon.
“Oh, Win, it is wonderful you are here!” Rosie danced up to him and threw her arms around him with the ease of a young sister. “Your papa gave me the most wonderful puzzle. It is full of letters and numbers and symbols. And I deciphered it in one hour. The Marquess, he is so happy!”
The joyful greeting she gave him that afternoon in the garden of his family’s country estate as she threw herself into his arms chattering about the latest in code games she had finished with his father sent an uncontrollable urge through his body to take and possess her that he was barely able to control. At eighteen, he was used to feeling desire at every turn: a look, a smile, a glimpse of ankle, a generously endowed chambermaid, a small rounded bottom wiggling on the street in front of him never failed to bring him to attention. These were all temptations that came to every healthy young male, and his appetites were as healthy as most his age, although having a diplomat for a father did mean he was learning discretion in all of his dealings with the fair sex. He indulged some desires, but mostly just enjoyed the bounty, preparing for the long banquet spread before a young sprig of the ton before he gave in to the need to provide his family title with an heir.
So, the overwhelming desire to grab the hand of the girl who was as close to a sister as he had ever known, drag her to the farthest corner of the garden, pound into her and stamp her as always belonging to him frightened him. She was only fourteen, small, but fully formed, with a lovely ripe bosom pressed against his chest as she threw her arms around him, a tiny waist he grasped as he pulled away from her and fine rounded hips his fingers trailed as he released her. He turned away for a moment trying desperately to will his towering desires to subside. When he turned back, everything had changed.
Her long black hair hung in loosely waving locks about her heart shaped face. Large brown eyes framed by heavy curly lashes below black winged eyebrows arched in query. A straight nose with a slight tilt at the end, a rosy bow of a mouth currently shaped in an “O” and creamy off-white skin with its usual blush of health seemed suddenly to glow bright pink as she continued to look into his eyes. Small high arched feet usually dancing on tip toe to be tall enough to be noticed and expressive birdlike hands were suddenly stilled.
