Status: In Progress

Genre: Romance


Status: In Progress

Genre: Romance


Ewan ST Rudford is hell bent on punishing the woman he believes compromised him and at the last moment debauched herself to another. Lady Isabelle Wallflower is married to the duke of Nottingham, theirs is a marriage of convenience. She still longs for Ewan, but is too arrogant to acknowledge it. To tempt the lady Isabelle out of her high horse, Ewan would do one of two things, threaten to bed her sister Rose Wallflower, or have ST Vincent do the favor.


Ewan ST Rudford is hell bent on punishing the woman he believes compromised him and at the last moment debauched herself to another.
Lady Isabelle Wallflower is married to the duke of Nottingham, theirs is a marriage of convenience. She still longs for Ewan, but is too arrogant to acknowledge it.
To tempt the lady Isabelle out of her high horse, Ewan would do one of two things, threaten to bed her sister Rose Wallflower, or have ST Vincent do the favor.

Chapter1 (v.1) - The Encounter

Author Chapter Note

Gentle Awakening<br /> <br /> When there’s an awakening of hearts<br /> When passion calls us to unite<br /> Nothing else seems more right<br /> Than this bliss in the winter night<br /> <br /> Solitude lips parting and panting<br /> His whispers naughty yet soothing<br /> Ferociously I moan into him<br /> Twitching with a burning yearning<br /> Filling me, my teeth clatter straining<br /> <br /> Tentative kisses shot at my damp entrance<br /> Silkily his tongue moves with a radiance<br /> That tantalizingly surges into me<br /> I’m at a loss flowing breathlessly<br /> <br /> Temptation tasted no sweeter than this<br /> The broad frame before me is all but nice<br /> His magnificent splendor now to the rise<br /> Replaces the greedy tongue, entrapping<br /> Climax, after climax I’m maddening<br /> <br /> My heart beats thundering fast,<br /> Is debauchery served for breakfast?<br /> <br /> Source: The Erotic Journal of Isabelle Wallflower (1814) TO Ewan ST Rudford<br />

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: October 16, 2016

Reads: 1709

Comments: 1

A A A | A A A

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: October 16, 2016





‘I haven’t pleasured a woman before milady, my skills lie only in the art of making furniture.’ Ewan replied in a desperate attempt to be rid of her. He was fast losing his patience, damn the woman, damn women in general. Ewan had been a man of no prominence from childhood. His step dad Marc ST Rudford the Marques of Bloomsbury had thrown him into the orphanage at five. Life had never smiled at him. Twenty years of bodily enslavement paid off as he built his own furniture company Rudford furniture.  The only legacy he got from his step dad was a name, an empty respectable name that gave him acceptance to society when it was needed.

The lady Isabelle stood unnerved by his rashness. She needed a man to get her pregnant, but she did not want an inexperienced fool like her husband. Obviously Vince was chosen for his high birth and nothing else. She had set her eyes on Ewan since sixteen and had kept in perpetual communication with him only in her mind. Now that she was face to face with the dark stranger who stole her thoughts from childhood, she refused to be deterred by his feigned indifference.

‘I thought men like dogs could feast on a willing prey. You probably have no fangs Lord Ewan, or pardon my reference to fangs. I mean to say Vince may be more a man than you.’ She smiled teasingly. He stepped closer, leaning till she could inhale his masculine odor. His broadness inspired fear and she was suddenly aware of the consequences of a sharp tongue. Stealing her way for the door handle, he gripped her effortlessly. Ewan was six feet tall, his chest clean and hard. No part of him felt soft.

He croaked and laughed, watching her color change to pink then red, seeing her thighs cling together and how flushed she had become was intriguing. Yet such sight could make any man falter, any man but Ewan. Having slept with several women, married, single and strumpets, she was no different. He didn’t need to touch a lady to feel her heat; his experience was hardly underrated.

‘Milady I hardly understand why you’ve suddenly changed to crimson, I am not sure I’m responsible for that. I am certain your husband is a wolf, I’m only a dog lest I forget one without fangs.’ A different scenario and he would rip off her corset, claim her and show her that reality is the harsh definition of fantasy. He could easily evade the temptation by letting her go, but not without having a taste of her lips.

‘I do not know what led me to this frivolous madness, I’ll take my leave, if you’ll please um, please let me go” Isabelle still a virgin had no clue how to duel a man, especially men like Ewan. Still holding firmly to her waist and pulling her closer till her peaks stood pointedly, Ewan smiled. Isabelle shut her eyes as if her nerves would go away by that singular act.

“Whaat do you plan to do with me? Would you reap my gown off and take me to your bed?” She asked suddenly, her features had changed considerably in moments. The bold Isabelle was gone, what was left was a whimpering innocent. Ewan found himself enjoying the torture he was clearly inflicting on her. Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined that the arrogant miss, would find her way right to the devil’s nest.

“None my dear, I do not intend to feed your arousal, nor awaken your fantasies. Here is reality virgins are too pure for me, and married ones, would forever remain at my neck. I can’t entangle myself any further, and I’m not particularly interested in another man’s whore.” Isabelle was brought back to life by those cruel devastating words that flowed out of his non-committal mouth. The man was a brute an out rageous one at that.

“You made your point, now let go off me at once Lord Ewan. This whore desires to return to her husband at once.” Determined not to cry, Isabelle swallowed and closed her eyes but the tears sprang out nevertheless. Ewan had called her a whore, she was the whore to the richest gentleman, who was famous to ride women like a horse until his accident. Isabelle had been the only woman willing to marry the impotent Vincent, two years into marriage, she now desired more than just friendship.

“There’s a thin line between anger and passion Belle, I wanted you to have a taste at rejection. You came to my chambers with a proposition of sex. You want me to put my seed into you and after you go live your life as duchess of Westcliffe. You do take me for a fool, you always have, poor miss. You probably thought flaunting your beauty and exuberant appeal would make me fall down to your feet. Almighty duchess, I’ll be humbled to have a taste of your sweetness. Sorry but to me you are a high ranked position lady of no consequence. I am the most unfeeling creature of all England, go now before I actually crush your senses and defile your body.”

Isabelle stood frozen, she needed to possess the last ounce of pride in her and give the jerk a taste at his own medicine.

“I’ll like to imagine this is about me rejecting you before my papa. Yes Ewan, you are right as usual you remain ice. You blame everyone except you for your short comings. You think I rejected you, think what you may. For a moment I wanted to be compromised and debauched by you. No English man has ever swept me off my feet, none but you. St Vincent was always just a friend. For two years I have led an empty unfulfilled life and that’s all because of you. I had come to you offering my virginity; I needed to lose it so Papa gives me a chance at independence, a chance at you. But you shoved me away, it took a great deal of submission to ask you again and you’ve done it again, shoved me away. I’ll take my leave now, St Ewan, good luck in your life.”

Ewan looked into her eyes and found something deep, deeper than the valley, hatred. Isabelle now hated him, her eyes and thoughts spoke together. What had he just done, he had thought, she needed to hear those things, . What did she mean by turning the tables around, making him an even more sinister villain than he already was? He would let her go and be rid of her, he won’t spare a single thought for her ever again. Dreams of her swollen red lips after being properly kissed by him and her open wetness crying out to him even as his fingers tease and plunge, those dreams he was more than determined to shatter.

Isabelle walked past him, one final look at him and she dashed out the door. Yet something strange occurred, Ewan found himself crying, the dark scoundrel actually shed tears. It came sudden and overwhelmed him. He felt the emptiness he’d grown accustomed to, only now the pain felt sharper than a knife and sword together.

Rose could do nothing but console her elder sister. She’d known all the while since Isabelle informed her about the ridiculous deal, she planned to have with Ewan, that her sister would either return shattered and yet a virgin, or shattered still but thoroughly used. The former was the better of the devils.

“He still affects me so much Rose, you are the only one I cannot be arrogant with because you’ll see right through the façade. Yes when he pulled me close to him, it was my body in burning submission, I could form no coherent thought, but so easily as he got me into the mood, he got me out of it. He is the most selfish, self-centered in humane creature mankind was cursed to bring forth.”

“Yes and the darkest son of the wretched Delilah. That’s how you described him in your ‘my fantasy journal.’ Here’s my advice for you Belle, divorce Lord St Vincent, re gain your life first. I do not understand why you put up with the marriage. Vince is a good man agreed, but he has made mistakes and he now suffers the aftermath, how long can you be his wife and friend? Technically your union is null, no consummation, are you so in love with him as to ignore your bodily needs?”

Isabelle could have slapped Rose at that moment but sorrow weakened her. “Rose, St Vincent has grown to be a wonderful man, he does not even expect my faithfulness, yet he is offering me all the gold in the world. I feel his pain, sometimes he touches me, my body does respond, but so soon as it began, the cruel reality steps in. He walks away helpless and grief stricken.”

“I understand Belle, I am not aloof to your plight, so what would you do, lie on the same bed with Vince while your nights are clouded by thoughts of one man and the things he could do to you? You are still arrogant even in your humility, you won’t acknowledge that you have really always loved Ewan; he has held your breath for the longest time and still does.”

Isabelle wiped the last droplets, sat up and in a smirking tone stated, “Until now I did dream of him, but he is not the most handsome man in England, nor is he the most powerful, without his furniture company, he is only a sorry loser, I regret to say. I won’t waste my tears on him anymore, I’ll focus on what money and power can get me. About my virginity, there are tons of gentlemen who won’t hesitate to follow my bid.”

That was Isabelle talking; she did not understand how one man could so control her flow of emotions. In the past if she laughed it was Ewan, when she cried it was due to him still. She vowed to herself at once and to the impetuous Rose that if ever Ewan crossed her path, she will resist him every step of the way.

Rose in other circumstances would have called Isabelle’s bluff but it was fun watching her sister act all tough. The sound of Vince’s carriage could be heard, Isabelle rose and cleaned herself up. Her gown was twisted and the sleeves as she realized were torn revealing her corset, had Ewan done the damage purposefully, did he mean for Vincent to suspect his wife? “I need a change of gown Rose, Vince  can’t see me like this, get me a new set Rose.”

“As you will lady St Vincent, we must hurry my brother in law will notice anyway, but let’s see how a change of clothing can conceal the damage done to your heart.” Before Isabelle could give her sister a well-deserved spanking, her husband knocked at the door. “Too late Belle, just tell him we were working and your gown got damaged, who knows with your corset delicately revealed, anything can happen” Rose conceded. She had taunted Belle enough, but her sister deserved what she was getting. She had told Ewan what they had together was a mere joke. She deserved better and why give her fortune to a man under construction while St Vincent stood as the wealthiest most promising suitor. When Ewan had left wallflower that night, Isabelle was never herself again. She had wept for days and nights, Rose had been there, seen the turmoil, and now Isabelle was about to encounter it all over again.

Rose opened the door to St Vincent, “I do not particularly like impatient husbands, you could have awaited Isabelle in your home St Vincent”

Vince was now used to Rose’s sharp tongue but he always responded likewise. “I’ll take that as a welcome invitation to get in and see my wife. I do not particularly like you blocking my path, and I can think of several ways to make you exit the pathway, I’ll do that with much pleasure.” Before she knew it Vince hands formed circles on her flat belly, while his other hand held her wrist. She squirmed and shut her eyes.

“It didn’t have to take long, miss incredibly ticklish, next time don’t start what you can’t finish” Rose held her tongue, she was about to say something to the effect of insane bastard, the words barely popped out. She swallowed nervously, when he moved closer to her, “Did you whisper something in particular?”

“No” she stated and ran off towards the stairs. Vincent could never really understand why Rose always triggered a response from him. Sometimes he came to wallflower, looking forward to arguing with her. The same could be said of Rose, it was like she had a rush of nerves, her heart beat faster than usual whenever she heard St Vincent’s carriage arrive. Isabelle had watched their encounter keenly; she knew if she asked Rose about it, her sister would grow pale. Rose was talkative and lively but never spoke about her own feelings or emotions. Besides Vince was married to Isabelle and she knew it would kill Rose to hurt her.

“My love, you are quite early, have you come to annoy my sister, if that was your intention; you just did an excellent job.” She hugged her husband and ushered him to the dinner table. “Quite the contrary, I think Rose could have possibly annoyed herself, blocking my path, I didn’t even do a thing” he lied. Isabelle denied herself the pleasure of contesting with him. “Give me a moment I’ll go fetch her”

Isabelle went upstairs only to find Rose wrapped under the blanket. “Are you okay, I’ll tell you these Rose a fever does not plague in seconds, unless my husband is the fever you are escaping from. Why do I feel like you both strive to torment each other, apparently you won’t go downstairs, afraid to face him, what is wrong with you Rose?”

“Oh nothing, it just felt quite cold and I felt like given you two a much deserved privacy, but you guys won’t even give me the pleasure of a bed rest. Okay miss I’ll join you downstairs in a moment.” Rose frowned at herself knowing that her sister noticed the unnatural effect St Vincent had on her. She will go downstairs and let St Vincent know she was no coward. But she staggered down the stairs, calming her bumpy heart. She prayed to focus on her meal and not have St Vincent staring down at her, such that a spoon could fall off her fingers and he’ll say with a wicked smile, “whatever happened to your spoon?”

“Hello every one, hi mum, dad, Jeff. Well I already greeted Lord and lady St Vincent” she stated nonchalantly and went for her plate. The usual position was across the table seated opposite her nemesis. Staring at the plate and taking in sizable bits, and not daring to move her face up, she could have choked on her plate. Everyone noticed but only Isabelle and Jeff could tell the reason. Of course the reason for her reaction was not aloof to it either; he stared down at her, “are you okay Rose?”

The most stupid insensitive question, yet it was an unavoidable given her performance at the dinner table. She refused to give anyone especially him the satisfaction of a response. They’d judged her already, so why trigger their judgment any further? After dinner, Isabelle went to the kitchen to do the dishes, her first real job in a long while. Marriage to a duke meant a crowd of servants and chaperones if she required any. Jeff and her papa walked to the stall, while Mama went to bed.

St Vincent stood observing old frames; classy old pictures like antiques were plastered on the walls. Rose picture of her sixth birthday stood alone from the others. She had been rather chubby then. St Vincent took the picture stared at it, his wide eyes glowing in silent admiration, from a fat, round little thing, to a ferocious red haired beauty.

There was nothing unappealing about Rose, her intelligent, quizzical eyes, bold pointed nose, her lips the softest shades of red. Unlike Isabelle, Rose had softer more sensitive features. Full hips, two round soft pearls aching to be touched, her flat belly and slim waist, there was nothing in her St Vincent could miss. When he’d touched her belly, and she’d moaned and squirmed it’d spoken billions to his senses.

The attraction could be equal for both parties as St Vincent was himself a beautiful man. Finely chiseled not with rugged hard features, he was clean yet virile in every way. His flat abdomen, tight hips, square jaw and those piercing, passionate eyes, that could convince any lady to risk it all for him. He had long dark hair and an air of dominance that penetrated every nook and cranny of a room when he was present. His servants worshipped him and he loved them back.

“Why do you have my picture sir, please return it at once” Rose interrupted his thoughts. “I like the little chubby Rose better, the Rose at present delights in pissing me off every now and then. She loves it when I am at a loss and she feels she’s won. Well since it’s always a contest when we meet, I dare you to take this picture off my hand, but if you can’t I’ll finish what I started earlier. Life is like business to me, or horses, I never leave my deals halfway, nor do I leave my horses unattended. You are neither but you have forced my hand, so try to get the picture, put in your best fight, no one is watching.”

Rose considered his proposal, what if she just let him have his way by chickening out and running away, a splendid idea except it would mean in a thousand ways that she’s powerless before the man. And if she dueled with him and lost, his fingers would be all over her body, she refused to think on that light it won’t happen, someone would come to her rescue for sure. Isabelle was only a step away and their voices would be heard upstairs. She knew she’ll lose but she also knew he was bluffing, they’ll be no retribution.

“I have a challenge of my own St Vincent, brother in law?” She smiled sardonically knowing her words would pierce deep to his soul, shatter him even. She needed to meet his gaze to say it, “Make love to your wife, if you do that then I Rose Flower, would be at your service. However as rumor mongers speculate my lord has a thing fir having a relapse when it matters least.”

St Vincent frowned, giving her a vicious eat you up glance, then put his head down, when he met her eyes again, he was torn with humor. He laughed heartily tears sprang forth. “I swear Rose, your euphemism could be daggers to any gentleman’s ego but mine. More so when rumor mongers are the basis with which you place your bet, why don’t I be the one to prove your theory right”

Rose took two steps back, she needed to understand his words without meeting his stare, “By that you mean you accept my challenge and are willing to go all the way with your wife?”

“You doubt yourself Rose, it seems you do not believe the ton, anyways my bedroom skills or lack thereof ought to be my concern and my wife’s but since you’ve made it yours, maybe I should consider having a mistress. A stubborn, feisty Rose Wallflower would make a great lover.”

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