Vixens - Bertrice Small Skye's legacy

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increased. Her body was overfull with new feelings. She soared, and as she did she cried out, and then she wept uncontrollably. He kissed away the tears on her cheeks, all the while thrusting and pulling until with a great cry his big body stiffened, and she felt the rush of his juices as they poured forth, filling her. As he collapsed upon her, Fancy swooned with uncontrollable excitement.

      When the king came to himself a moment later, he rolled off his beautiful lover and then gathered her into his arms. She lay softly against his broad, smooth chest. She had been a virgin, and yet she claimed that she was not. What had happened to make her believe that she wasn’t a virgin? He knew in time she would tell him the secret of her husband’s death, but this other he had to know now. She murmured low against him, and his arms instinctively tightened about her. There had been so many women in his life. Lucy Walter had given him his first son before he had been forced to flee England during the civil wars. And sweet Elizabeth Killigrew had given him a daughter two years later while he was on the run. And there had been Catherine Pegge’s lad, born also in his exile. And then there was Barbara Villiers, his first real maitress en titre. Beautiful, sensual, greedy Barbara. She had given him five children, and attempted to foist a sixth on him, but he had known the sixth was not his and denied her. Her unfaithfulness was his escape. And recently Nellie Gwyn, saucy and greedy, but a good heart.

      And now there was Fancy Devers. For he intended making her his mistress. She was not a woman to quickly bed and then discard. No. Fancy was a lover he would keep. She would be a nice balance with Nellie, and he knew she would be respectful of the queen. But first he needed to learn why this lovely girl had believed she wasn’t a virgin.

      Chapter 4

      Fancy moaned slightly, then sighed deeply. The smell of sandalwood touched her nostrils. Opening her eyes she discovered that she was cuddled in the king’s embrace and lying upon his chest. She raised her head and met his glance. It was warm. “That was wonderful,” she said to him. “Is it always that wonderful? Or is it just wonderful with Your Majesty?”

      He grinned and then chuckled, flattered. “While I should like to tell you that it is only me,” he said, “I am certain there are any number of gentlemen who please their ladies in a like fashion, my dear. But now we must talk.”

      “Oh?” She sounded distinctly disappointed. “I was rather hoping that we might do it again, Your Majesty,” Fancy told him.

      “Oh, we shall,” he assured her, “but first I must know why you thought you were not a virgin, Fancy.”

      “But I couldn’t have been,” she replied. “My husband used my body on our wedding night.” She shivered openly with the memory. “It was horrible! Not at all like Your Majesty’s treatment of me.”

      “Sweetheart,” the king said gently, “your maidenhead was quite intact, and I am a man who knows such things. Tell me what this man did to you, Fancy, and I will attempt to explain further. Did your mother not offer you the knowledge you would need for that momentous event in your life?”

      “Mama said that she supposed that my sister Maeve and my friends had already told me what I needed to know, for all girls were inclined to chatter about such things. Then she told me to put myself into Parker’s hands and all would be well. She said that a gentleman doesn’t want his wife to be overly knowledgeable. That such a woman but frets a man since he wonders from where she has obtained her information.”

      “Had your sister spoken with you?” the king wondered aloud.

      “Maeve was very impressed that I was to wed a Virginia Randolph. She said it was best I be pure as the driven snow else he be suspicious. So I asked nothing more. Oh, I knew that men kiss and fumble with your breasts, but other than that I had no knowledge.”

      “How did your husband make love to you?” the king questioned.

      “He made me lie on my belly, and pushed my face into the pillows so none would hear my cries. He said he did not want to see my face when he did it. Then he pushed into me, and the pain was so terrible that I fainted dead away. So you see, Your Majesty, I couldn’t have been a virgin.”

      The implication of her words slammed into the king’s brain, and he closed his eyes for a short moment. The pervert had violated this exquisite girl in the most vicious and debauched way. Were he not dead, Charles Stuart, the king, thought, I should kill him myself. Then as his shock eased, he said to Fancy, “Sweetheart, you were yet a virgin for me because your husband used you in a corrupt fashion. No decent man would use a respectable woman in that fashion, particularly an innocent virgin. Someday you will tell me how he died, but even if you feel you are responsible for his death, he deserved to die, Fancy. Did you tell your parents what happened afterward?”

      She shook her head. “There was such an uproar over Parker’s death that I tried to put it from my mind,” she admitted.

      “Rightly so,” he agreed, and then he bent and kissed her. “I shall never let any man harm you again, Fancy,” he told her. “You have my royal word on that, my darling.”

      “And I do not have to speak of it again?” she said.

      “Not until you are ready,” he promised her.

      She looked at him flirtatiously. “Can we do it again now, Your Majesty?” she queried him prettily.

      He laughed. “So you like being fucked, my little colonial.”

      She looked a bit shocked by his use of the crude word, but then she answered, “Aye, I like being fucked by Your Majesty.”

      “What is it about you, Fancy,” he wondered, caressing her face with a gentle hand, “that makes me want to keep you from all harm. You are hardly shy, or meek, and yet . . .” his voice trailed off.

      Reaching up, she drew his head down to hers. “Kiss me,” she said simply, and he did.

      He made love to her a second time that night, and her passionate response to him set his senses reeling. He felt like a boy again. Afterward she fell asleep, but before she did he told her that these rooms were now hers.

      “Are they not yours?” she said puzzled.

      “I do not often take my mistresses to the royal apartments for I would not offend the queen,” he told her, and she nodded her agreement.

      “Am I to remain here?” she wondered.

      “The rooms are yours if you choose to take up residence at Whitehall or they are yours in which you may entertain me and your friends. Shall I have a servant sent to you?” He arose from the bed and began to dress himself.

      “I have a maid, Bess Trueheart,” Fancy responded. “She will either still be in my uncle’s apartments or will have returned to Greenwood House with my cousins.”

      “I will have her found and sent to you in the morning,” the king said.

      “But how will she find me? I have no idea where I am for Mr. Chiffinch led me down so many corridors and up so many flights of stairs, I am totally lost,” Fancy said with a helpless smile.

      The king laughed. “Whitehall is a hodgepodge, I will agree,” he replied. “I will assign a page to serve you when you are here, my darling little colonial.” He bent and ruffled her tousled raven’s black curls. “Sleep well, my darling Fancy,” he said softly. He kissed the top of her head. “We have but begun a lovely friendship.” Then he departed the bedchamber, closing the door behind him.

      The king quickly made his way back to his own apartments. He had to speak with his cousin about Fancy. No! He would not speak with Charlie. Not yet. He would send for the dowager duchess of Glenkirk. She must be informed of this turn of events. Fancy had been a virgin! He had certainly never expected it, and had they not been so far along in their amorous pursuits he might have been able to stop. But if the truth had been known, he didn’t want to stop with her. The king knew that his sexual appetites were greater than most men, but it was just because they were that he had learned to control them. Considering the violence

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