“Beauty is an asset, certainly, but that alone doesn’t always make a woman desirable.”
“If not beauty, then what?”
“Any combination of qualities can be arousing-a keen wit, a facile charm, a certain liveliness, a stylish flair, a subtle sensuality. Demeanor can be a greater temptation than even physical attributes. Even a plain Jane can prove irresistible if she has other merits in her favor.”
Vanessa studied Damien curiously. “Have you ever found any woman irresistible?”
His mouth curved in a cynical smile. “A few. For a time. I make it a point never to allow my interest to be held for long.”
Vanessa fell silent, remembering the reason Damien had given her for keeping away from her bed. Our association was becoming too heated for my peace of mind…
That was why Damien had ended his pursuit of her, she realized. Why he had withdrawn emotionally from her when it seemed their intimacy was growing too intense. He was determined to hold himself apart from her and never allow his emotions to become involved.
She felt her own heart constrict with regret for the loss, yet she couldn’t allow herself the luxury of sorrow.
At those times particularly-during his dispassionate lectures where they cold-bloodedly plotted to ensnare an unsuspecting protector for her-Vanessa wondered if she could carry out her plan.
She didn’t like to think of having to give her body to any other man. Indeed, the only man she could see in the intimate role of protector was Damien.
Yet her assessment was still rational. After having known the patronage of the notorious Lord Sin, she should be able to make an excellent liaison elsewhere, and her sisters would be safe from penury.
If there were moments when she felt a wave of despair at the course she had chosen, she grimly pushed it aside. There were many names for the role she was attempting to learn-high flier, bird of paradise, Cyprian, courtesan… but the bald, unvarnished truth was, she was learning how to be a whore. An expensive, elegant whore, admittedly. But still a whore. Yet she could not afford squeamishness or sentimentality.
She would not be the first woman to earn her livelihood between the sheets. There were any number of successful courtesans who had learned to live by their wits and beauty alone. Besides, the role of mistress was far preferable to that of wife. A wife was infinitely more vulnerable to a man’s tyranny. Upon marriage a woman lost control of her fortune, her children, even her body.
And in many respects the life of a courtesan would actually be liberating. She would no longer have to feel trapped by society’s rigid dictates and hypocritical judgments.
And so she forced herself to learn well the lessons Damien so expertly taught.
His second goal was to make her comfortable with her own body.
“You are an apt pupil, sweeting, but you still have much to learn about lovemaking. We have scarcely begun to explore the depths of your passion…”
To that end, he introduced her to the delights of scented oils and body massage. For the lesson he spread several sheets over the chaise lounge to protect the brocade, then instructed her to undress. When Vanessa suggested he be the one to lie naked on the chaise lounge instead of her, Damien shook his head.
“No, lie back and enjoy your lesson. You should experience the pleasures of manual stimulation for yourself so you understand how best to arouse your lover.”
He smoothed oil all over her body, starting from behind… her neck, her spine, her buttocks, her thighs… His hands moved slowly, massaging gently, rhythmically, the heat and slow languid motion unbelievably sensual. Then he made her turn onto her back so that he could anoint her breasts and nipples.
Vanessa was trembling even before his magical hands moved to her legs. Spreading his palms, he stroked upward along her thighs to the feminine juncture, where he paused.
Damien gazed down at her with eyes that seemed to scorch her with searing heat. “If, by some misfortune, you have a lover who cannot arouse you, leaving you too dry for penetration, then you can use this method.”
His oil-slick fingers slid inside her, his thumbs brushing the exposed bud of her sex. With a shudder of pleasure, Vanessa closed her eyes and arched against him, letting him sweep her away to a world of bliss.
Oil was not the only stimulant he used. He also taught her the merits of roses in lovemaking.
Several afternoons later, Damien made her undress for him, so that she wore nothing but her corset and gartered stockings. Vanessa blushed when she glanced at the erotic image of herself in the mirror. The garment was nothing more than a tight-laced frame for her bare breasts, one that emphasized the thrusting ripeness of her jutting nipples and left the mound at the vee of her thighs completely exposed.
“Remind me,” Damien said, surveying her thoughtfully, “to take you shopping for an appropriate wardrobe when we go to London. That corset doesn’t do your exquisite body justice, as well as being much too plain for your intended effect.”
She turned to eye him quizzically. “Are we going to London?”
His gaze suddenly became hooded. “It is the most obvious place to begin your search for a protector. We’ll have to proceed discreetly, of course, as long as you are my sister’s companion. But learning to negotiate the London demimonde is essential to your education. And there are some dangers you should know about if you mean to dwell on the fringes of the underworld.”
“And who better to teach me about the dangers of wickedness than the notorious Lord Sin?” Vanessa asked archly.
“Exactly. Now come here.”
He was sitting in one of the two wing chairs, holding a long-stemmed crimson rose. Still flushing, Vanessa went to stand before him.
His devouring gaze ranged the length of her, over her breasts gleaming pale and bare… her thighs with the crown of dark curls covering the cleft of her femininity. Offering her a beguiling smile then, he lifted the rose and teased her nipples with it, arousing her till she shuddered. Moving lower then, he drew the velvet petals slowly over the lips of her sex.
Vanessa drew a sharp breath at the delicate sensation.
Damien plucked a crimson petal and held it out to her. “Now your turn.”
“My turn?”
“To touch yourself.”
The color in Vanessa’s cheeks rose higher, but Damien seemed to dismiss her embarrassment.
“Your lover may not be considerate enough to see to your needs. You should learn to achieve your own relief in the event you have a man who cannot satisfy you.”
Obeying with reluctance, she took the soft petal and brushed it over the secret place between her thighs. Abruptly Vanessa felt a wild tingle of excitement surge through her blood.
“This,” she whispered, gazing down at him, “is so decadent.”
“Not yet,” Damien murmured. “But it will be, I promise you. Now continue. Pretend those are my fingers caressing you, arousing you to pleasure.”
Her gaze locking with Damien’s, she did as he bid, exploring a world of forbidden mystery. Heat flared inside her as she stroked herself with the rose petal, gliding over the taut bud that was growing slick with her own juices.
Damien’s eyes darkened as he watched. “Your nipples are hard, sweeting. Does that mean you’re becoming aroused?”
“Yes… but it isn’t the same as when you…”
He smiled. “I’m flattered. Perhaps you’re ready for the next lesson after all.”
Drawing her hand away, he leaned forward and pressed a kiss on the intimate dewy center of her. Vanessa went rigid with surprise.
“Have I ever told you how much I like the scent of roses?” Damien murmured huskily.
His eyes gleaming like liquid silver, he stood and undressed her completely. Then, leading her to the bed, he pressed her down upon the sheets and arranged her position to his liking: her hair forming a torrent of tousled silk over her bare breasts, a pillow beneath her hips, her naked thighs spread for his sensual appreciation.
He held her gaze as he stood back to undress. “It’s time you discovered just how pleasurable decadence can be.”
She waited in rapt and aching anguish for him to come to her, aware of the most potent sense of anticipation she’d ever felt.
Naked and aroused, he joined her on the bed and knelt between her thighs. The heat of his gaze set her blood on fire. Yet he didn’t enter her. Instead he bent to her breasts that were begging to be touched.
His tongue circled a dusky crest, now pebbled and eager. Vanessa whimpered with pure joy at knowing his caress again.
“I mean to show you,” he whispered against her skin, “just how to use your mouth to drive a man wild…”
He flicked his tongue over her nipples one by one, swirling over the aureoles, setting her nerves awake with each caress. Then his lips and teeth joined the assault, sending pleasure shafting deep within her loins.
Vanessa gave a low moan. Her sensitive nipples ached now, hard and pointed and tender to the point of pain. His mouth moved lower then, over the rest of her body. His flaming tongue struck sparks along her flesh, laving exquisitely each curve and swell and hollow, making her tremble with sensations so vibrant they hurt.
Between caresses Damien spoke to her, each low, sensuous word stroked her as his wicked tongue was doing.
“I want to kiss you, sweeting, all over your beautiful body. I want to explore every inch of your hot skin and make it mine. I want to hear you moan raw sounds of pleasure that will drive me mad…”
The wanton images so vivid, so potent, stirred errant quivers of wanting in her midsection, between her thighs.
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