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Soho, London 187?
Ms. Pearl de Vere’s Brothel House
Josephine Wilde, 16, stood in the middle of the room in only a cotton shift, her walnut hair cascading down her shoulders and back. Her lips were like a rosebud, her eyebrows and lashes were thick, her high cheekbones prominent, but still soft from youth.
She was about to lose her virginity to the naked man before her. Jedediah Shine was his name. Police Constable Jedediah Shine.
His Inspector felt that the need to keep the Constable calm. A corrupt man himself, Inspector Pankhurst looked at Shine as his star pupil, but felt that there was something monstrous growing within him. A violent streak that, if left unchecked, might cause a problem for the good Inspector someday. Shine was a typical brutish boxer from Bethnal Green: dirty, rough, scarred, and shrewd. His ambition quaked on Shakespearean levels some days, but he was a loyal and dependable man. He would go far one day. He was a real shovel buddy, as he had most recently demonstrated.
He had noticed Jedediah’s downcast gaze towards young Ms. Josephine’s direction at Ms. Pearl de Vere’s with the silent patience of a predator stalking his prey. The girl was no stranger to carnal pleasures, but had as of yet never laid with a man. With a few actions to make Ms. Pearl concede, he would present his most valuable student with the rarest of gifts in these times: an absolute unicorn. Ms. Josephine, pure as the driven snow, whose petite voluptuousness and handy ways had enticed and satisfied several of his men. But it be P.C. Jedediah Shine who had proven himself deserving of the delectable and untasted fruit of this feminine bounty.
She would be Shine’s, and then Shine would be his.
“Come here,” Jedediah held his hand out to her. She could see his eyes were bright, fervent and hungry.
She placed her hand in his and he took her by surprise by swiftly pulling her to him. She stumbled into him, her palms flat and open on his bare chest.
Running his fingers along the nape of her neck, he threaded his fingers in her long hair and pulled gently, forcing her to look up at him.
She saw his jaw clench.
He felt her tremble under his touch.
She knew not what to expect from him. He had always seemed so beastly, so serious, so cold.
She mentally located the dagger she placed between the headboard and the mattress, It was out of his sight, but not out of her mind.
Ms. Pearl had entered Josephine’s room that night and spoken in low tones.
“My child, tonight you give yourself to that man,” which she said as a curse, “but I will not allow you to be unprotected. Here,” she handed over a dagger, “take this and hide it so that only you know where it is.
“If he abuses you, if he hurts you, you will be able to defend yourself. Do not kill him, but hurt him well and then call for help as loud as you can. I will have a man standing in the corridor after Shine enters your room. He will not know it, my dear, but you will not be alone.” She placed her hands on either side of Josephine’s face and lowered her tone. “You call for help if you need it, you hear me?”
“I will. I promise.”
“Have you cleaned yourself?”
“I have.”
“It will hurt less if you don’t resist. Be sure to relax. It will sting at first, and then be over in a minute. Most men cannot sustain much longer than that,” she said as though sharing a wicked secret.
“Are you ready?” he asked.
“Yes,” her response came out on a wobbly sigh.
He placed an arm around her and lead her to the bed. Josephine climbed onto the mattress and slid beneath the warm weight of the covers.
Jedediah lingered at the bedside for a moment.
Josephine tensed as he joined her beneath the covers.
He lay on his side and gazed down at her. Studying her.
His hand caressed her under the sheet, mapping the shape of her stomach and hips. Soft skin, so smooth, so unsullied. So free of scars and blemishes. So different from his.
His hands stilled. He looked down at her, his green eyes as dark as night. She observed the candlelight flicker over the hard, high planes of his cheeks.
He suddenly took her jaw in his hand, her breathing froze. He brought his mouth down on hers, covering it with a strong, urgent, owning kiss. She opened to him, letting him do as he wished, as she was supposed to, while he searched her with aggressive vigor.
Pulling the covers away from her body, he bent over her chest. His breath was like steam as it penetrated the thin cotton of her shift, causing her nipple to rise. He touched the taut point with his fingers, shaping the full, rounded flesh before he covered it with his mouth and licked through the fabric. The white cotton turned wet beneath his tongue, cooling against the tight bud as he drew back.
Josephine gave a short sharp intake of breath suddenly. Jedediah looked at her. She recovered quickly, hiding her reaction.
He caught one nipple in his mouth and gently suckled. Josephine reflexively arched her back and moaned. Closing her eyes, she wanted to drag her fingers through his hair, but instead drew an arm over her face.
An involuntary moan escaped on a whisper. He heard it. It would become his name before he was done.
He wanted those eyes of hers fastened on his when he took her, to see her innocence transform to rapture and to the dawning awareness of womanhood as he, Jedediah Shine, gave it to her.
His body settled between her spread thighs, the weight of him hard and heavy. She wriggled and strained against his hold, realizing that the motion was causing his cock to swell against her. He started to grind slightly, a luscious friction that made her ache.
Kneeling with his folded legs spread between her thighs, Jedediah tugged at her shift, pulling it over her head and tossing it aside. He stared intently at her flame-gilded body. Modesty burned through her as this was the first time a man had ever laid his eyes upon her naked body. Her hands moved reflexively to cover herself from his feline eyes, but he caught them and held them wide.
His stare burned into her. So harsh and yet tender it was.
“Josephine, you are…beautiful. So warm,” he said hoarsely.
She stilled at his words, “You are… nothing at all like I imagined you to be," she thought to herself.
Letting go of her hands, he reached down to touch her with spread finger tips that slid over her stomach in rough trails, continuing down to the gift. A silent moan stuck in her throat as he played with her, delving into the private skin where only she had ever gone.
Her hands fisted and fell to her sides. The rhythm of his breathing had roughened with lust, but his hands stayed gentle, teasing her soft pink edges, kneading with his thumbs, stroking her opening. The sensations pulsed through her, until she couldn’t keep from writhing and twisting helplessly upward.
Flattening a firm palm on her stomach, he issued a silent command to settle. She obeyed.
His fingertip slid between her thighs, stroking just above the peak of her sex, awakening delicate throbs of heat. She shivered, her legs closing on either side of his hips.
His thumbs swirled at the entrance of her body, gathering wetness before returning to the swelling peak.
She had often brought herself to climax, but it was never so wicked. So delicious.
Closing her eyes, she turned her hot face away while he toyed and teased, eliciting more wetness and fullness until her sex was achingly sensitive. She felt his thumb slide down again, circling and stroking…pressing inside her.
It stung as he nudged deeper into the tight-rimmed tenderness. But he was exquisitely gentle, his fingers splaying over the mound and massaging in a deliberate rhythm. She gasped at the sensation, pleasure turning her insides molten, her buttocks tensing and relaxing in shameless craving.
In that moment she would have begged him to take her anywhere, anyhow, anyway. What other boudoir secrets did this man know? What other carnal acts could this wicked shepherd lead her to perform?
Nothing at all - no shame, no complication, no game - mattered in this kinetic moment...save his flesh co-mingling with her own. It was all that mattered.
She shocked herself at how depraved her thoughts became and involuntarily smiled to herself. His eyes answered her, alight with the immensity of his pleasure.
His hand pulled away and she whimpered in protest. The dark shape of his head and broad shoulders loomed over her as he gripped her knees and pushed them apart. Her hips rolled upward until her sex was brazenly displayed. She heard herself groan as he bent over her, his tongue dragging moistly along the soft slit. She wanted to grab his hair and ride his tongue. He knew it. He grabbed her hands and placed them on his head. She was a feral cat in heat. She wanted him. Yes, he knew it.
Reaching her clitoris, he suckled and stroked without mercy, but not too rough, sending bliss racing through every nerve, driving her relentlessly until release broke and flooded her.
“JEDE-!” His name rushed out of her, ending on a whimper. Oh God, had the man in the corridor heard her?
As she caught her breath, she felt Jedediah come over her. He kissed her mouth, his tongue salted with a subtle erotic savor. She let her hands wander down to the tough-banded muscle of his stomach, touching the stiff length of his erection.
With a low sound, Jedediah settled more heavily between her legs, pushing them wider, positioning himself against her.
He pressed until her body began to yield, persisting even as she shrank away from the sharpening ache. He pushed inside the soft, moist, clenching tightness until she gave a faint openmouthed cry, going rigid at the burn of it.
Jedediah held still, muttering endearments and reassurances. He caressed her hips and thighs, while her body closed over his in gorgeous throbs. He gathered her closer, his belly against hers, the heat of him deep inside. Gradually her inner muscles weakened as if recognizing the uselessness of resisting.
She brought her legs up and around his hips and wrapped her arms around him, feeling his back muscles move underneath the skin. She was ready.
“Yes,” he whispered hoarsely as he felt her relax. His jaws clenched, his breathing was ragged. He kissed her jaw and throat, and stared down at her as he began to move in slow, careful lunges. Pleasure misted his hard features.
Oh, the satisfaction that she had made him feel this way.
He saw her eyes wide, staring at him with a mixture of bewilderment and arousal.
Jedediah then lost control, driving his cock inside her, filling her to the hilt.
Josephine gasped with the pleasure and the pain of it.
As he reached his climax he fastened his mouth over hers, while his body worked in vehement shudders. Then his exquisite release came, thorough and hard, as he buried his face in her hair with a groan.
Josephine held him tightly, savoring the tremors of satisfaction that ran through him.
When he recovered his breath, he kissed her lazily, a sated predator enjoying his plunder.
The man she had so feared had read every nuanced expression, every tensing of her muscles, every unspoken plea in her eyes, and changed his force and rhythm accordingly. Was this man - this sated man who now smoothed moist hair from her forehead and placed the most feather-light kisses on her temple where tears had formed thin, wet streaks - the cold, enigmatic brute whose reputation walked ahead of his person among the girls?
Oh yes. Yes, he was.
And surprising herself, she had one thing on her mind as she placed her lips on his shoulder and held onto him for dear life, "Stay,” she prayed, willing her mind to reach his, “Stay with me a few moments more, Jedediah Shine.”