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She allowed him to unfasten her gown and let her crowning glories spring free. Maria knew the power of persuasion that her pair of advocates possessed.

The moment he took her breasts into his hands, George began to swell. Ah, God, what could he not achieve with this woman? He began to kiss her, but her lips did not deter him long from his real goal. His demanding mouth slid down her throat inch by inch until it finally closed hotly over a large fuchsia nipple. He could feel himself throbbing now and he could deny himself no longer. He began to suck, gently at first, then stronger and stronger.

Maria felt as if there were invisible threads of liquid fire connecting her breasts to her belly, and her belly to a much lower, much more intimate, place. “Oh, Geòrgie, don’t!” she begged. She groped toward him, intending to push him away, but somehow her lover’s robe had fallen open and her hands came in contact with his engorged phallus.

“Ooh, Georgie.” She gasped.

If her gown had not fallen about her waist, impeding him, he would have thrust home, dissolving her protests like snow in summer. As it was, there was only one fragrantly soft cleft luring him on where he could bury himself. His mouth came up to hers, taking her cries of half protest, half delight, into himself as he pressed her back upon the silk-covered couch.

His large shaft slid into the deep cleft between her breasts and the heat from her body almost scalded him. The Prince began to moan and thrust in earnest. There was no stopping him now.

Maria clasped him to her bosom, delighted with his youthful, manly vigor. He had succeeded in arousing her own sleeping sensuality. This combined with the overwhelming sense of power she felt over the highest Prince in the Realm was enticingly irresistible. After this intimacy there was only one step left. She must not allow him to take that step until he had asked her to marry him.

He felt his seed start and sprawled upon her in a state of exhausted ecstasy. The moment had arrived when both must make their move and push for the thing they wanted most.

“Pussy, Pussy, I adore you. Let me spend the rest of my life making you as happy as you make me!”

“Your Highness, you have ruined my gown,” Maria said softly.

“My dearest, I will buy you a thousand gowns. Let me get a towel … let daddy make it all better.” He hurried to his bathroom and brought a crested Turkish towel. When he returned, Maria was crying softly.

“There, there, Pussykins, don’t cry.” Gently and with great reverence he wiped the lovely globes of her breasts and the valley between. He put his hand beneath her chin and raised it so that he could look into her eyes. “You have made me the happiest man in the world, Maria. Why are you crying?”

She raised tear-drenched eyes to his. “I am covered with shame. How could I have indulged in this forbidden tryst? I can never see you again.”

“Puss, Puss, I shall die without you. I want you to come and live with me. If I cannot have you with me day and night my life is utterly meaningless!”

“George, don’t, please, I beg you! Do not coerce me into a life of degradation.”

“Pussy, I love you! How can you say life with England’s Prince would be degrading?” he demanded.

Maria pulled up her Parma-violet satin with great dignity. “Even if you were a king it would be degrading without marriage.”

They were at an impasse. The Prince of Wales decided in that moment to acquire the magnificent jewels from Indian Savage. They would show Maria how much he valued her.

Maria decided in that moment it would be all or nothing. “I think you had better take me home, Your Highness.”

Chapter 31

When Tony returned from the wig wholesalers Rosalind was entertaining Frances Jersey. Tony tried to slip upstairs, but no one ever had succeeded in eluding the elegant Lady Jersey.

“Anthony darling, you weren’t trying to avoid me, were you?”

“Ah, Lady Jersey, how lovely to see you again. I swear you must be a witch. You seem to get younger with each visit.”

Frances simpered up at Tony from her diminutive four foot eleven. “You flatter me vastly!”

“Lady Jersey, I am prodigiously truthful.”

“Anthony, you are one of the nicest boys I know. That is why you won’t say no when I ask that you attend Almack’s tonight. We have so many young ladies, but not nearly enough dancing partners for them.”

“Ugh,” grimaced Tony, “I don’t mind the young ladies, it’s their mothers, aunts, and grandmothers I have an aversion to. You can’t get away from them. They have evolved a speech pattern that doesn’t require your participation, but it keeps you anchored to the spot for hours while you must politely listen.”

“As a special favor to me, dear boy. Roz has promised to attend as a chaperone, so you may escort her.”

Tony looked at her grandmother. “You’re really going to Almack’s?”

“I’m not quite ready for the chimney corner and a shawl yet, you know, I’m only in my forties.”


Tags: Virginia Henley Historical