Love Indeed

James, Viscount of Riverton, lay alone in his bed. It would be a while yet before his fair viscountess Clara would return from the garden, assuming the pattern of previous nights would continue. James had known well before the wedding that Clara never cared for him, so her suspicious late nights in the garden were hardly a surprise. If anything, James was pleased that someone was satisfying her as it meant he didn't have to deal with it himself.

Though he was far from certain, James guessed that his wife's surreptitious lover was William, the Marquis of Lorren (among other holdings), who had arrived as a guest in late January. It was now early July and Lord William had hardly spent a day away in the whole span. James could have been wrong, though. "After all," he thought, "I may only be thinking that he might be with my wife to justify my activities with his."

Indeed, the beauty of Rosaline Marchioness of Lorren was unmatched in James's mind. Her auburn hair was usually done up during the day, but at night it flowed like a gentle stream to her lower back. Her skin was not as pale as the typical beauty standards of the time would have demanded, but its color bespoke a lady with a fondness for the world outside the walls of her home. A crowd of shouting children would hold a tune better, but when she spoke her voice carried a firm conviction and passion which demanded attention and respect, and no singer, no matter how virtuosic, could make a sweeter sound than what passed from her lips as she lay in James's arms.

Like Clara to James, Rosaline had been married to William for political purposes and had only ever interacted with him as demanded by their peers. An heir and a spare, as the saying went, but once their second son had been born she would never willingly give herself to William again. She had even claimed that she would never have anyone at all once her expected children were born.

A knock at James's bedroom door alerted him to someone's arrival. He sat up, preparing to greet his mistress as she entered.

"Good evening, my lady," he said as she came into view. "Is there something I can do for you?"

"Yes," Rosaline replied. "You can begin by foregoing the pretense of propriety. Only we two are here and you already know that there is nothing proper about my intentions."

James chuckled. "There is something proper, though. You want a proper fucking."

Clara would likely have been appalled at the profanity, but not Rosaline. This headstrong lady was more concerned with speaking clearly and concisely, rather than avoiding offense. Thus, in some cases, the vulgar speech would be better.

The visitor grinned mischievously. "Soon enough, my bold friend," she said. "First, you must bring out my desire."

James held out his hand and the lady approached to place hers in it. James placed his lips gently on the back of Rosaline's hand as his usual starting place for their trysts. Then he slid his hand up under her arm to her back, tickling her skin as he exposed it.

"What enticement strikes your fancy tonight?" the nobleman asked.

"I'll begin with a look at your chest," his guest replied as if ordering dinner. She placed a hand over his heart to feel the shape of his muscles through his tunic.

Without a word, James lifted the tunic over his head and let it fall on the floor. Rosaline stepped closer and began running her hands over his chest and abdomen.

"This scar, how did you get it?"

James had never given the real answer (that he'd tripped in his father's armory), but he could never remember his lie. "It was a duel with a tricky bastard," he improvised.

"A bastard, you say?" Rosaline replied, as if the mention had given her an idea.

"Yes, my uncle's love-child. Or so he claimed."

"Do you have any love-children?" the lady asked.

"I don't know of any," James answered.

Rosaline leaned close and whispered in James's ear, "Would you like to make a love-child with me?"

James pondered the question for a moment before wrapping his arms around Rosaline's waist. "If we did have a child," he replied, "love would be the best explanation of its origin."

Rosaline smiled at his declaration and pulled his head down for a kiss. As they pressed their lips together, James pulled at the laces of Rosaline's dress until the fabric fell in a heap around her ankles, leaving her entirely bare.

"Don't you usually wear something underneath?" James wondered.

"Yes, but I knew where I was going," Rosaline explained as she walked to James's bed and sat down. James followed, kneeling before her as if before the Queen herself on the throne.

"May I serve you?" he offered.

"Of course," his lady said as she spread her legs to expose her pink slit to him.

James pressed his lips eagerly to Rosaline's sensitive skin. As Rosaline sighed and leaned back, he labored to stimulate his guest. His lips pressed against her slit as if to pry it open as his tongue worked its way in. Rosaline's fluids carried a flavor James found intoxicating, even better than his favorite wine. His thirst for the flavor inspired him to dig deeper into Rosaline in search of the source.

"Dear Riverton," she sighed as his tongue penetrated her, "how shall I reward your devoted service?"

"To serve a fair lady such as yourself is its own reward," James answered.

"Don't lie," Rosaline chastised him. "Serving with the lips and the tongue can hardly be as rewarding to the servant as it is to the recipient. Why don't you come up here and I'll reciprocate?"

"I would have to stop to move," he explained between deep licks. "Would you want that?"

Rosaline moaned at a particularly well-placed thrust of his tongue. "I want you to feel my love, as I feel yours."

James leaned back and thought for a moment. "Then I suppose I should move closer to the seat of your love." He stood up and lifted Rosaline's legs up onto his bed, then lay down beside her.

"Perhaps I can suck your love out from so near your heart," he suggested as he began to kiss Rosaline's breast, inching closer to the nipple with every touch.

"Oh, something can be sucked out," Rosaline replied, "but I would hardly call it love."

"But is that not itself an expression, a symbol of love for the one who depends upon it?"

"But who depends upon such love but the weakest of all? Are you no greater? Is that goodly condescension the love you crave from me? I would not compare it to my love for you," Rosaline argued.

Undeterred, James reached the nipple and began to lick and suck at the rigid cluster. "Then none of that love should come out," he reasoned.

Rosaline arched her back on reflex as her body pressed itself into James's ministrations. With a sigh, Rosaline yielded her resistance. "Very well. See what love you can draw out from there.

As James focused with his mouth on the tender breast, he fumbled with his hands at his belt until he was able to remove all remaining coverings from his body. Once his fleshy appendage was free, he began to rub it against the mattress.

Noticing James's now complete nudity, Rosaline remarked, "I believe it's time we began." James looked up at her face as he silently positioned himself above her. He ventured to give her a gentle kiss before looking between them to ensure his aim.

The pair sighed in unison as their bodies joined and they felt each other's heat. Rosaline wrapped her arms around her lover and brought him down to rest on her chest as he began to thrust in and out.

Discussion ceased as they communicated through their entwined bodies. Kisses served as messengers of passion and sighs and wordless moans proclaimed their mutual pleasure. All the while, the slow movements of their hips as James penetrated Rosaline whispered between them of their love and care for one another. As James bowed himself over Rosaline, her hands roamed over his back and shoulders, occasionally reaching down to his buttocks to encourage his thrusts by pulling him in. With every stroke Rosaline's body welcomed James in and when he withdrew in preparation to thrust again the warm flesh tightened around him, begging him not to go.

Together they lost sense of the time as they exerted themselves over and around each other. Nothing had any meaning but their union, and oh, what indescribable meaning it had. Sweat soaked them both as they imprinted the scents of their love into the soft bed beneath.

Finally, their eyes met and it was clear that the end was near. Rosaline pulled James's head down for a kiss before whispering in his ear, "I want to have your child." He dug his arms in under her to hold her to his chest as her hands gripped his buttocks in a silent plea. James's thrusts grew more forceful until his seed shot out of him.

Spent, James rolled over next to Rosaline, still holding her in his arms. She would need to leave soon to maintain at least the illusion of attempting to be discreet. But he would savor every moment with her until then.