Driven By Desire: Part Eleven

By Emily Gardner

Regency Romance

Start from the beginning.

Sienna’s mere mention of children sent a shot of sensual energy straight into Anders’ groin, one he had been suppressing since he saw her upon exiting his house.

He kept up his stance at the door of the study, surveying what seemed to be the only personal room in the house. A young portrait of the Baron Crowther with a woman and a young boy, whom Anders deduced must be his late wife and son, sat on the wall opposite the massive desk, the walls were covered in bookshelves where ancient looking tomes and recently added files were placed. The wide window allowed light to stream in from the garden, but there were fat taper candles that stood on the desk and from sconces on the walls, conjuring images of late nights, with the Baron bent over sheets of parchment. There was only one chair in the room, a massive worn brown leather wing chair set behind the desk.

Sienna was standing next to the great chair, looking over the files on the desk and replacing them, Anders noticed, in exactly the same way as she had picked them up.

But it wasn’t the files on the desk that held Anders’ interest; it was the large painting hanging directly behind the desk.

It was massive and old, of three men. One older and dignified, in full military regalia of a long ago age, with two smaller identical sons posed in front of him.

Sienna sent a sly glance at Anders from beneath her brows. “My great-grandfather, Charles Julius Caffery, 16th Baron Strand, he wasn’t supposed to inherit, he joined the army, worked his way up quite far, actually, and took on his title after his older brother died. My grandfather is on the left.”

How Sienna could tell the two boys apart was beyond Anders, even as a twin himself, knowing the full share of mischief he and his brother had gotten themselves into pretending to be one another, the two boys in the painting were mirror images of one another.

“How can you tell?” he asked.

She tore her gaze from the papers and looked into his eyes and inclining her head towards the painting, “He’s wearing the family signet ring.”

Anders then, indeed, did see the large black and gold ring that was fitted onto the young boy’s finger, his brother’s hands clasped behind his back as if hiding his second son-ship.

“So your grandfather was like Trenton and me?” he asked.

“Yes, that’s his younger twin brother, Samuel,” she sat in the massive chair and began searching the drawers of the desk. “He died in France during the last great war.”


She shook her head. “Spy,” she said simply.

He responded monosyllabically, “Ah.”

She continued to search the desk in silence and he continued watched her.

She used her picks on two more drawers before she found anything of interest: a packet of letters tied together with a red ribbon, something very unlike any of the military missives or coded letters she had found so far.

She untied the ribbon and pulled the letters out of the packed and a small “Oh,” Escaped her lips.

She looked up at Anders, her eyes filled with a softness in their deep depths that Anders hadn’t seen before.

“These are from me,” she said softly.

Anders checked that the hallway was clear once more then he pushed himself off the doorframe and shut the door behind him, locking it with a soft click. If Sienna noticed his movements she didn’t show it, she was absorbed in the missives before her.

“Did you write to him?” he asked as he circled around the desk to stand next to her, his arm casually resting on the top of the chair.

She nodded, “Often, but I was never sure if they actually reached him. I would receive letters in return, but I was never sure if it was really him writing back, or if it was just my father trying to give me hope beyond our current situation.”

“Apparently he got them all,” his hand slipped lower, onto the arm of the chair.

“I had never pictured him as a sentimental man,” she said.

”He’s trying to keep an entire nation safe. That’s the definition of sentimentality, I think,” Anders said softly.

She looked up and blinked at him, and Anders saw a deep change in her gaze. For a moment he thought she was going to step into him, but then she dropped her eyes as she folded the missives back up and tucked them back into an envelope, tying the ribbon exactly as it was and closing and locking the drawer with hands that shook slightly. “I think I’ve looked at everything I needed to here,” she said as she rose and turned, right into his arms.

He held her, his face mere inches from hers, the back of her legs against the front of the desk positioned so that she was perched on the top ledger. “Did you find what you were looking for?” he asked, his breathing already ragged.

She swallowed as her eyes, of their own will entirely, stared at his lips and her hands drifted to his hips of their own accord, “Yes.”

He brought his lips to hers; gently teasing her as he barely brushed hers, “Good.”

He held his restraint for the span of two heartbeats before he lost everything.

Her opened her mouth to him with his tongue, tipping her head back to allow him better access. His hands worked his way to her hair, freeing the few pins that kept the knot her maid had anchored to the top of her head. Her red brown mane fell down in soft waves and Anders buried his hands in the silkiness, something so feminine and pure.

He drew her to him, and she kissed him back, running her tongue over his lips and felt him smile at her brazen action. This wasn’t the kiss of two courtly lovers, there was a carnal aspect, something deeper than pure physical attraction at play.

Their tongues danced as she ran her hands up and down the sides of his torso, the heat built, smoldered until Anders couldn’t take it anymore. Couldn’t take the fire, the passion that surged between their heated kiss anymore. His primitive instincts took over, all clear thinking ceased and only she existed.

He lifted her up and set her on the desk, spread her knees and stepped in between them. She instinctively drew him closer to her, pulling on his hips with her hands, wanting something she never knew.

The moment he touched her legs, Sienna lost all contact with the outside world. All she knew was that he was here, with her, in this place and that she was kissing him and he was kissing her. Her lips were made to have his cover them, they were matched perfectly, yet neither knew what the other was about to do.

He shifted his attention and moved his mouth lower, placing a small train of kisses down the side of her face, down her neck, over the sensitive skin of her collarbone until she let out a purely feminine sigh.

He pulled back and gazed into her eyes, glazed over with passion. Her fair skin was flushed a light pink, her lips were cherry red and slightly swollen, her hair fell in soft curls, wild and mussed from his hands.

He sent her a purely masculine smile and captured her mouth once again, with an intensity Sienna had never felt before, distracting her as one of his clever hands found the edge of the hem of her walking dress and slowly pulled it up, over her slim calves.

She wasn’t even aware of what he was doing until she felt the cool air on her inner thighs, she gasped in their shared kiss, then gasped again as his palm began a slow journey up from her ankle to her knee, slowly up her inner thigh, then slowly back down again.

He repeated the torture with her other leg until he hear her moan.

A sound he wanted to hear again. And again. And again.

He tilted her head back with his kiss and gently brushed the back of his hand over the center of her women-hood, the very point from which pure heat radiated and filled her veins. She sucked in a breath as his knuckles gently rubbed her and grinned wickedly as he found her already wet.

His fingers slowly circled her entrance and she arched her back, willing for something, but exactly what she needed she wasn’t sure.

His tongue plunged into her mouth the same moment he slipped one long finger into her entrance, then pulled out together. He lessened the pressure on his lips and his finger slipped back inside her slowly; he wanted her to enjoy this experience fully, without even the distraction of his lips on hers.

Her breath quickened as he buried one finger fully within her, he gently pulled out halfway before slipping in another digit, feeling her tightness expand to accommodate him.

Just when she thought she couldn’t take the sense of fullness, the completeness she didn’t know she was missing, the warmth of him inside her he did something that sensually shocked Sienna so much she thought she would shatter.

He began stroking. Slowly at first, then his thumb found the center of her pleasure and he began moving his fingers together, friction building both inside and outside.

Sienna lost control; control of her breathing, of her hands, which had fallen uselessly to her sides, every part of her was humming with sheer pleasure.

She dragged open her eyes, from under her lashes his eyes were a hazy blue, their usual clear depths were cloudily, the planes of his face were sharper, more determined.

She was climbing, heading towards a destination she didn’t even know existed.

He worked her, his fingers finding that exact spot that sent her over the edge, he stroked he once more deeply until his pressure on her center couldn’t take it anymore, she fractured and fell off that peak, a muffled scream on her lips. Then she was floating, completely outside of her body, the sensation filled every fiber of her being.

She slumped onto Anders, boneless and exhausted, her flushed skin slowly returning to its normal shade, her breathing slowing to its usual deep steady pace, her racing heart resumed its normal beat.

Anders smiled as he held her, flicking down her skirts down over her cooling skin. He drew near complete satisfaction at her reaction; she certainly never experienced that wave of sensation before, and the knowledge of him being the first man to give her such pleasure filled him in a way he had never experienced before. The last time he had been with a virgin he had been one himself and he had forgotten the subtle joy of bringing pleasure to one who had never experienced such before.

He tried to think of something, anything, besides the women he was keeping upright. She was so utterly lovely, her features were smooth and relaxed, her face showed signs of emotion she so neatly kept behind her social mask. She looked so at peace, fully relaxed for the first time since returning to England. He tried to take deep breaths and calm himself down before she drifted back down to earth completely.

He had almost succeeded when she stirred against him, she raised her head and he brushed back a few soft tendrils that framed her face, smoothing their soft weight back.

She smiled at him; a dream-filled half smile, as if she was content off of his very presence and he smiled back, a full grin, one that so rarely was displayed on his lips.

She reached forward and gently kissed him, nothing more than the soft brush of her lips to his. There was something purely sweet about her action, something that spoke of something more than the physical delight she took in him and his carnal knowledge.

She regained control of her hands and gently began searching for the pins he had plucked out, trying not to disturb the desk beneath her. She put her hair half up as he watched; fascinated with the way her hands deftly twisted the shining mass into an elaborate coil, his hands still firmly on her waist.

The last vestiges of her pleasure were still coursing through her veins; she was still in that fuzzy haze when he loosened his grip on her, easing her off his chest so that she was upright.

She glanced out the window; the weak sunlight was casting a golden glow on the world as it sank, bathing them both in a dusty radiance.

They didn’t need words. She righted herself as he helped her down from her perch on the desk, gently steadying her as she remembered how to use her legs. Her efficiently put the desk back exactly the way they had found it, Anders notices. She remembered the location of every paperweight, every quill where all he could remember about the desk was the satisfaction he had given her atop it.

He drew her by her hands and unlocked the door of the study, holding the door open as he ushered her out, pulling it shut tightly behind him.

She glided down the hallway to the foyer and allowed Witbridge to help he don her coat. Anders shrugged on his greatcoat and collected his hat as he waited for Sienna’s carriage to be brought around.

“I’ll see you tonight.” He murmured into her ear as he helped her into her carriage. He closed the door on her still dreamy face and the matched pair gilded away, leaving Anders to walk back home and contemplate his next action.

To be continued next week…

Emily Gardner is a writer living in Washington, DC. Her debut novel, Driven By Desire, will be published in installments here on Coffee & Stink. She is currently working on her as-yet-untitled sophomore novel.