The Prince's Mistress

CHAPTER TWO: Stolen Flowers

With almost any other girl, even one as young as Honor, he would be a welcome suitor, but he could never marry Honor. She was forever barred from him. His frustration grew as his love for her intensified. His hands shook at times with the need to touch her. He couldn't accept that the only woman he loved would never be his and the thought of her becoming someone else's wife nearly drove him to madness.

Gavin had never been denied any woman and he would not be denied the one he loved. He would find a way and he would come back for her. He needed to tell her he loved her. He had to explain why he had to leave her, but the mere thought of telling her everything left him without words. He wasn't sure she would understand, but he had to try. He set off in search of her, determined to explain and leave. Something would come to him. It had to.

After a short search, he found her in the music room playing a nocturne by Chopin. He watched her for a moment, taking in the lush lines of her youthful body. The child's dress she wore emphasized the fullness of her breasts and they strained against the fabric until the plump curves rose temptingly over the bodice. The skirt caught at her tiny waist and was so short that her beautifully long legs were exposed to him.

He stifled a groan at the thought of kissing her sweetness while those legs dangled over his shoulders. All his good intentions fled. His c**k was heavy with desire between his legs as he strode swiftly across the room to straddle her piano bench. In a few deft movements he had an arm about her waist and her body pulled close to him. His grip forced her to straddle the bench as well, her legs open for him. His large body enclosed her much smaller one, holding her still and close to him. Honor was startled by the sudden embrace and could only stammer, "Gavin, y-you scared me!"

He held her close, pushing his c**k against the softness of her bottom before replying, "Hello, my little beauty." His breath was hot and smelled faintly of brandy. Confused by Gavin's sudden closeness, Honor tried to squirm away, but he held her firmly with one arm. The other hand deftly pulled up the skirt of her short, girlish dress and went directly between her legs to search intently for opening of her drawers. His mouth went to her neck to bite her, then lick and kiss the hurt away. She gasped and froze before struggling and whimpering, "No!"

He kissed her mouth, nipped her lips and whispered into her ear, "Hush, little beauty, don't be afraid. I only want a little taste."

His fingers found the opening they sought and the thatch of downy curls that covered her innocent feminine flesh. He slid a finger into her slit, found her entrance and thrust inside her. She cried out, confused by the sensation.

He held her tightly and moaned hoarsely, "God, so, tight! How I want you!" He turned her face to his and he kissed her before reassuring her, "I won't, not yet." His finger curled and touched something wildly sensitive inside her. Her soft walls contracted around his finger of their own accord. She whimpered helplessly at the invasion. He chuckled and mused, "So responsive for such a young girl. Hmmm...I wonder if I can make my beauty come?"

His finger slipped out of her and he licked it. "Mmmm...delicious." Immediately his hand returned between her legs to seek the button of flesh at the apex of her s*x. His finger was slick and he rubbed it over her c******s in firm, brisk circles, giving her no time to question him before drowning her in sensation. Honor jerked at the touch and gasped. Her legs went lax and open for him. He breathed her in deeply, smelled her innocent arousal and wanted more. He stopped the circling of his finger to softly pinch the sensitive pearl of flesh, making her cry out again. A triumphant grunt erupted from his throat. God, yes!

He turned her so she lay against his arm and he could watch her face while he touched her. "You are so beautiful. I can hardly bear it." His mouth went back to kissing her while his fingers ruthlessly worked between her thighs until she jerked and cried out with her first orgasm. He ground her arse against his c**k and came uncontrollably in his smalls. He felt no shame at this; only relief that he hadn't given in and taken her as he wanted.

He drew in deep breaths to calm himself and held her. He nuzzled her neck, pulled her hair down to stroke the golden strands. He committed her to his memory. She was speechless, confused and terrified. He pulled her tightly to him before he rasped, "I love you, Honor."

Honor whispered, "It's not right." He groaned with frustration and spat out, "I don't care that it's not right. My heart doesn't care either."

Honor felt numb, confused and her mind wasn't processing with its usual precision. In fact, it was if all her synapses had slowed and were struggling to fire. Everything was in slow motion except for her heart which pounded out a staccato beat in her ears that was the rhythm of her fear.

He turned her body to face him and said, "I know you love me. I see it every time you look at me, and feel it when we touch. I still smell it on both of us." She opened her mouth to protest and found she didn't know what to say. She did love him, but she knew it was wrong. Finally she whispered, "I am your niece. We can never marry and I will have to marry." It was ridiculous and obvious, but it was a practical reason to reject Gavin's advances. He gripped her upper arms, his fingers digging into her skin as he gritted out, "I won't let another man touch you. I won't stand for it." His anger and fear of losing her consumed him in that moment. He let her go to bury his face in his hands in misery.

The fear that had been holding Honor tightly in its grip released its hold on her. She bolted to her feet and ran to her room as fast as her legs would carry her. She locked the door and laid her back against it, as if at any moment, Gavin would be there to kick it down.

Honor didn't sleep that night. She thought endlessly about what Gavin had done. It had to be wrong. Her feelings for him were wrong. Her mind grappled with the pleasure he had given her and her own evil. Just how evil was it? She wasn't sure. She had attended church with Rose, but this subject had never been raised. Still, she was pretty certain that it was wrong.

Her fingers crept down into her drawers to touch the place he had touched. It made her ache there and feel needy. Her fingers twirled as his had, working madly. She trembled with an orgasm, but instantly she knew it wasn't the same as what he had done to her. What he had done had burned her from within and without. Her own fingers didn't cause half the fire his had.

Honor got out of bed and made her way down to Rose's room in the servant's quarters. Rose woke when Honor lifted the cover to slip in beside her friend. "What's wrong, milady? What happened?" Honor sobbed as the story spilled from her lips. "It's incest, Rose! It's wrong, but I didn't know how to stop him. I don't think I wanted to stop him. I'm wicked and ashamed."

Rose's eyes took a curious look that Honor couldn't place, but to her credit all she said was, "You're only a young girl. Shame on him for taking advantage. Things didn't go too far, so you're alright; you're still a virgin. Lord Gavin will go back to London soon. He'll be distracted by all the society goings on and forget all about this." Rose looked pointedly at her mistress as she finished with, "And so will you. We'll just have to keep you out of his sight until he's gone." Rose always knew what to do and what to say to make Honor feel better. She slept the rest of the night without waking.

Honor made sure never to be alone with Gavin again and managed to stay out of sight, but the morning before Gavin left, he would not be thwarted. He found her hiding behind a flowering bush in the garden, only her shoes visible.

"Honor, come out."

She froze in place, unable to force her feet into action. Seeing that she would not move, Gavin pulled her from behind the bush and took her in his arms before she could run away. He led her deeper in the garden to the privacy of an arbor of trees. Turning, he drew her close to him and kissed her softly. He raised his head to give her a reproachful look. "You've been hiding from me. It has hurt, but I forgive you. I know I must have frightened you."

Honor begged, "Please let me go. It's wrong. We mustn't do this." She tried to pull away from him, but he wrapped his arms around her waist and held her firm. A stunned look crossed his face and he shook his head in disbelief. "No one has told you then."

Terror filled her throat and choked her. Her expression must have alarmed him, because he held her even closer. "My, darling, calm down. I thought you knew because it's been gossiped about since your birth. How on Earth it was kept from you is a wonder."

He laid her head on his chest and stroked her hair, soothing her as if she were a frightened bird. Time seemed to stretch around them both and seconds became an eternity. At long last he felt her body relax and become soft against his. When he finally spoke, his voice was as gentle as the words he spoke were harsh. "Honor, you're not your father's daughter; that is Charles did not father you. You are not my niece."

Anger replaced her fear and she shoved him away. She turned on him and shouted, "Liar! How dare you! My mother was a good woman! She would have never--how dare you!"

He took her firmly by the arms, his face became serious and his voice lowered. "I may be many things, but a liar isn't one of them. Come now, think. How many mistresses has your father had since your mother's death?" He could see the gears working in her mind and the look of confused denial on her face. He said what she would not. "That's right. None."

She began to try to pull away, but he refused to let her run away from the truth. He took her chin in his hand and forced her to meet eyes. "Your father prefers bedding men. He couldn't perform with your mother when he tried. I know because he asked me to bed your mother for him, but I refused. Instead, he talked his ex-lover, Lord Marsden into it. Your fair hair and green eyes are his."

She cried out, "My mother was a good woman. She would never..." She struggled, more with the truth that was drowning her than with him. Gavin shook his head and said calmly, "Your father locked her in her room and beat her until she agreed. Think about it, Honor. Your father doesn't care one bit about you. Now, why is that?"

The ground seemed to move beneath her feet for a moment and the Earth tilted madly on its axis. She lost all sense of reality and felt for a crazy moment that she wasn't really there, but apart from herself and watching the scene as it unfolded. She swayed on her feet and he pulled her close to his chest once again and cradled her in his arms.

He kissed the top of her head before saying, "I am so sorry that you had to find out this way, but I couldn't let you go on thinking our love was evil. I would have told you earlier, but I assumed you already knew. There are so many people that like to gossip and hurt others." He took her chin in his fingers and forced her to look him in the eyes. "I have never loved anyone or anything in my life, but I love you. I don't care if we both go to hell for it."

She began to tremble violently and he tried to soothe her. He took her hand gently and held it to his chest. "My heart is yours. I know you didn't ask for it and don't want it, but there's nothing to be done about it."

Honor panicked at the declaration and pushed against his chest desperate to be free, but still he held her fast. At last she pleaded, "Please, let me go. Someone will see us."

His face fell with disappointment and his hands fell away from her. She started to walk away until his voice stopped her. "Wait. I want to give you something until I come back for you." He took her hand, placed something into it, and closed her fingers around it. "I will think of you everyday we're apart. Please wear this for me. It was my mother's and is meant for my wife. I will marry you and the rest of the world be damned." His voice took on an edge and his blue eyes hardened as he warned, "Do not touch another man, Honor. I will kill him if you do."

Terror spiked into her breast and she jerked away. He pulled her back, "I don't mean to be so dramatic, but it will be years before I see you again. I can't trust myself around you."

He leaned down to kiss her thoroughly, tasting her and leaving her no doubt of what he would take again. Her anger melted and she returned his kiss, despite her fear and confusion. He let her go and she ran through the garden, her blonde hair streaming behind her.

Her mind swirled with all he had told her, all that she felt and the desolation in her own soul at his departure. No matter who or what he was, he was the first man to love her, the first to touch her and the first to take a part of her that she could never get back. Later, in her room she opened her hand to find an emerald ring in her hand. The stone was enormous and its weight in her palm seemed ponderous. She shoved it to the back of a drawer and left it there, unworn.

Gavin left that afternoon and Honor hid until she was certain he was far away. She sagged in relief and despair as his carriage left the gates. The tension that had gripped her eased and at last she cried. She didn't stop sobbing until she reached exhaustion sometime the next morning.

Honor did not suffer long over Gavin's departure. She cried the tears that only young girls cry over a first love, but once done, the incident became smaller and smaller in her mind, until at last it fit into a locked drawer of her memories. She rarely took it out, but sometimes a voice or a scent forced it open, leaving her awash in hopeless yearning. Those were the nights when her fingers reached inside her drawers to stroke herself while she imagined him. Hot shame would always follow these moments and renew her determination to forget him.

A few months after Gavin's departure her father sent her to a finishing school in France. She suspected it was so that he could be alone in the country with his new lover, but she had no wish to object. Paris was freedom and she would do anything to be free of her father and the weight of his indifference.

France was not nearly as strict as England when it came to amour, and Honor met young men at soirees and balls hosted by her school. The events were intended to provide the young women with polish in preparation for their first season in London, but were also hotbeds of youthful passion. Honor had been giddy with freedom, stolen kisses from handsome French noblemen and the air of frivolity that was Paris. Still, she compared every man to Gavin, every kiss to his and no man came close to him. She hated her weakness, but kissed many young men in hopes that one might ignite her body the same way. To her disappointment, it never happened.

Honor returned to Kent Manor with high hopes, but no expectations of her father. She assumed that her stay would be brief, as her father had insisted she be prepared for a season in London. He had instructed her to buy a new wardrobe before leaving Paris. She had been sent vouchers for Almacks, letters of introduction, and an invitation to a ball given by the Duchess of Shrewsbury. She was shocked that he sent for her at all, but she had learned long ago not to question him.

Her father had aged markedly in the two years she had been away, his days consumed with alcohol, gambling and beautiful, greedy young men. For perhaps the first time, Honor saw her father for what he really was. She felt no contempt, only pity. He looked far older than his forty years. His once robust frame had shrunk significantly and his once perfect skin had turned yellow and mottled. Gone was the handsome young marquess and in his place was a lecherous old man who stared with unabashed lust at the arse of a handsome footman.

He sat with a bourbon in his hand and apathetically surveyed the girl he claimed as his daughter. His voice held a contemptuous air that let Honor know she was far beneath his consequence or regard and he was only humoring her with his attention. He informed her that her uncle would be arriving shortly. He would escort her to London and accompany her for her first season.

Honor stammered her objection, "Father, are you not going to accompany me? You have always adored London."

Her father frowned and waved a hand as if the notion were ridiculous. "No, my girl. I loved parties. Now they bore me to tears. I am much happier here in the country with my friends." His eyes traveled back to the firm backside of the footman who gave no indication of his regard. He returned his yellowed gaze to Honor and shrugged. "Gavin adores you. He'll take good care of you." With that she was dismissed.

Fear clenched Honor's stomach and her heart beat fast in her chest at the thought of seeing Gavin again. His arrival the next day destroyed whatever confidence Honor had amassed in the previous years. Her heart lurched in chest at his beauty, her senses were awash with him and the distance that she had thought would lessen his effect on her was gone. She trembled beneath his lingering kiss on her cheek. Later her fingers sought to ease the heated desire between her legs.

The first sight of Honor in two years nearly brought Gavin to his knees. Gavin watched Charles with disgust, but when his eyes fell to Honor, they became soft and warm with longing. He touched her often in passing, held her too long and the desire in his eyes was unmistakable. The years had done nothing to cool his ardour for her. It had only grown and his distaste for any other lover had driven him to celibacy. He let his mistresses go and took few lovers. He loved and wanted only her. The thought of her having a season and marrying another man drove Gavin to desperation. He couldn't give her up. He wouldn't give her up.

Honor did her best to avoid him. She wasn't ready to face the feelings he awoke in her. She excused herself from dinner claiming a headache and didn't come down the entire evening. She spent it thinking of him and wanting him, but was terrified of what it meant. Despite her efforts, he managed to force his way into her bedchamber the next morning. The moment she stepped out of her bedroom, he appeared in front of her and shoved her back into her room.

She tripped on her long skirts and went sprawling onto her backside, her eyes widening at the determined look on his face. Immediately she turned to her knees, and tried to scramble to her feet. His hand grasped waist and he pulled her to him. He kissed her gently, sweetly and with all the love in his heart. Honor felt the fear of what she didn't know, what she knew was wrong and still, a longing grew between her thighs. Her breasts swelled and her n*****s tightened as his hot mouth trailed along her jaw and neck.

She whimpered in denial and pleasure. This was wrong! "Please, don't. We're not married and never can be. You'll ruin me." Her voice was pleading, but he ignored her and began unlacing her dress faster than her ladies's maid had ever accomplished the feat and a small voice in her mind reminded her that he a great deal of practice with all the beautiful women of the ton and more.

Through a haze of dizziness and desire, she felt herself lowered to the floor on her stomach, her drawers being pulled down and her legs pushed open. She struggled to keep them together as she realized what was to happen and his hand came down hard on her bottom, delivering stinging slaps until her struggles ceased. Oddly, he seemed more inflamed at the sight of his handprints on her. Still, he regretted the pain he must put her through. He opened the front of his placard and eased his large, engorged member out, groaning with the lust that been building for since the moment he saw her.

His voice came to her as if disembodied, "I must do this, my love. Try to understand." His hard smoothness pressed at her opening for a moment before he pushed into her virginal passage. Hot pain bloomed between her legs and she cried out. He stilled and kissed her neck and gave her a moment to adjust to his invasion.

He held her tightly by the waist and hair, forcing her into submission. He panted, "You don't know how I've wanted you; how much I love you." His hips thrust slowly and she sobbed with the pain. He stroked her hair, as if to comfort her. He soothed, "Shhh....don't cry now. I shouldn't have been so rough. I'm sorry, I will make it better."

Genly, he pulled out of her and a moment later, his hot breath hovered over her most intimate flesh before his lips kissed her there. He lapped the ravaged flesh, and soothed it. His tongue flicked over the nub of her c******s and a soft whimper escaped her lips as pleasure stole the pain away.

Her arms collapsed beneath her weight, but her arse stayed up, her knees open and her s*x pouted for his attention. He growled and his hands gripped her hips, holding her to his mouth. He would allow no escape from the pleasure he gave her. His tongue worked in quick strokes and she came in his mouth with tears running down her cheeks.

He turned her over, desperate to see her face when he pulled her hips down to meet his rigid c**k; its head purple and angry with need. He slid in easily, despite her almost unbearable tightness. She sobbed with the renewed pain, but he ignored her and tore the bodice of her dress, baring her plump breasts. He breathed in sharply with appreciation before taking a rosy n****e into his mouth. He drew deeply on it, loving the way she tasted.

He relished in her and their joining. He hated himself for stealing her innocence and he reveled in it at the same time. Her violation, the scent of her blood and arousal drove him to a primitive frenzy that was basic and animal. His c**k pumped in and out of her faster as his pleasure increased. Honor thrashed against him, her walls contracting strongly around him. He whispered into her hair, "Come again for me."

He reached between them, his fingers finding and stroking her just where he knew she needed it. He pulled her leg over his shoulder, going deeper and forced her orgasm that was more pain than pleasure. Her body tensed and released violently, gripping his c**k, and sent him to the pinnacle of his own pleasure with a savage shout. His bollocks tightened and his seed erupted from his c**k in hot, thick ropes that coated the walls of her channel.

He fell over her, panting and in disbelief. No woman had pleased him as intensely and never had any lovemaking torn at his soul with disgust for his actions before. He hated what he had done, though he knew he would do it again and again if he could. Slowly, he slid down onto the floor beside her and took her in his arms. He held her as if she were precious, kissing her face, her mouth and her temple, murmuring words of love into her skin. He whispered he would love no other and realized that it was true.

Honor was quiet, but her tears continued to seep from the corners of her eyes. In a small voice that damned him she said, "You have ruined me."

He kissed her tears away, promising, "My sweet beauty, you are so perfect. You are not ruined. Your father has betrothed you to my son, Arthur. Do not worry, he will never touch you. He will go back to London and you will live with me."

Honor looked at him in horror and gasped, "You mean to make me your permanent w***e? Married to your son, but lying with you?"

He held her face in his hands. "Please don't speak that way, Honor. You make it sound dirty, but it isn't. It's the only way we can be together. I will take good care of you and our children. No one has to know."

"No one but Arthur."

"He owes me too much money to say a word. Besides, he would never have been faithful to you and this way he doesn't have to try. If he speaks I will cut him off."

"You'd do that to your own son?"

"My son has run up over ten thousand pounds in gambling debts. I am being very kind to pay them for him and he bloody well knows it."

"I will tell my father. He may not love me, but he's not an animal."

"Your father will do nothing. He cares nothing about you. He gambled you away! He will call you a spoiled brat and be annoyed with you. Face it, Honor. You are mine."

Honor knew that nothing she said would stop him or change his mind. Her future swam around her mind in circles, dizzying her and reminding her of how futile it was to fight. There was no fight in her now.

Gavin held her close for what felt like a lifetime, before he sighed and stood. He fixed his breeches and pulled her to her feet.

"I would not leave you, my darling, but my absence will be noted if I stay away longer. He hesitated, kissed her forehead and whispered, "Wear something pretty for me at dinner. I will think of taking it off of you all night." He left, and she stared at the door for a long time afterwards, afraid that he would come through it again.