Cupid, Be Mine
Copyright 2009, Anya Delvay
Cover Art: Lisa Amrine
This is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are
products of the writer s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are no
construed to be real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events,
locale or organizations is entirely incidental.
All rights are reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in
any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief
excerpts or quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
In the midst of the celebrations Cupid slipped as inconspicuously as possible
away from his guests in the ballroom, and Helena followed.
It was not her usual manner of doing things. He most often came, oh, so
discreetly to her, rather than the other way around. But tonight...tonight was
different. There was no more time for discretion, for waiting and wondering.
The long strides and proud carriage of the figure ahead sent a sweet shiver
of desire trembling through her chest. Softening and warming her inside, it vibrated
out to her nipples and down to the already damp flesh between her thighs.
Something in the manner of his movements, the ease and grace, had entranced her
from the very first. It was a thrill simply to watch him walk through the corridors of
Camden House. He turned down a dimly lit hallway, and Helena went around the
corner in time to see a door close ahead.
Suddenly hesitant she paused, took a deep breath. With unsteady hands she
tweaked the curls around her face, smoothed her gown s gold tissue overlay. So
much was riding on these coming moments and uncertainty hollowed her stomach,
made her heart race.
 Stay the course, Helena, she whispered, trying to find the optimism to
believe all would come right, knowing there was no guarantee it would be so. Yet
experience had taught her to go boldly forward even when everything inside
screamed retreat. This must be done, and tonight, with its aura of romance and
happiness, seemed as good a time as any.
So, with one last steadying inhalation, another sweep of gloved fingers
across her gown, she opened the door.
The small parlour was illuminated only by the crackling, popping fireplace.
Holding a lit cheroot, he stood near a slightly open window, gaze fixed upon the
frosty panes. Glowing flames wove strands of red into his dark hair and gave the
handsome profile a harsh, almost demonic cast. The slight smile curving his
beautiful lips seemed mocking.
She faltered the certitude only just found fading away to be replaced with
cold overwhelming fear. But it was too late to turn back. Pulling the well-worn cloak
of sophistication and banter about her suddenly chilled shoulders, Helena stepped
forward, and smiled.
 I thought I saw you slip away, Lord Casterbury.
Lost in thought, Elias only vaguely registered the sound of the door closing,
but the low melodious voice brought instant recognition. Happiness flared deep in
his soul as he turned to face his lover.
Firelight caressed Lady Helena Durham, emphasising her almost shocking
silver-blonde, dark-eyed beauty. No matter how long the interval since last he saw
her, whether two minutes or two days, the first glimpse of her always made his
heart leap. She was perfection, and he let his gaze wander with lingering bliss over
the softly aristocratic face, down the long smooth neck to the sweetly rounded body
below. For six months he had been graced by her intimacy, yet he still could not
quite believe his good fortune.
After their cool and formal greeting earlier at the receiving line his eyes had
been drawn to her again and again, like a compass to north. Her golden overdress
stood out in the sea of pink, red and white gowns worn in honour of St. Valentine s
Day. Lushly embroidered with dark red intertwined hearts at neckline and hem, the
design was sophisticated, worldly, and suited the wealthy widow.
Looking up to voice a compliment, he met her sparkling gaze.
For a moment he couldn t move. The night drew closer, the music and
laughter from the ballroom fading into insignificance beneath the flash of emotion in
her eyes. A tendril of smoke from his cigar arose between them, wreathing her in a
mysterious mist before dissipating under a cold, impatient puff of breeze from the
window. Helena shivered.
 Lady Durham, forgive me.
He made to throw the cheroot out into the night, but she forestalled him with
a gesture.  Do not forego your pleasure for me, Lord Casterbury. After the
announcement of your sisters betrothals it is well deserved, to be sure. Did you
come in here for a quiet gloat?
Ignoring her invitation to continue smoking, he disposed of the cheroot and
pulled the window shut. Bowing low, he mustered as much severity as he could to
say,  I would never be so ill mannered as to gloat, my lady.
 Then you are unusual indeed, my lord. Lady Durham rose from her curtsey
and walked past him to rub at a frosty pane with one gloved finger. A hint of
perfume wafted lightly behind her, surrounding him, magical and arousing. It had
been formulated just for her in Paris. Sweet, wild, unforgettable, with tones of
vanilla and tuberose, it suited her implicitly.
The urge to touch her was almost overwhelming, but cognizant of the
intricacy of ladies toilettes, their dislike of having hair or clothing mussed, he
restrained himself. Instead he set about lighting candles around the room. Even so
occupied he couldn t stop his gaze from constantly drifting back to her as she
spoke.
 Most men, having achieved what you have, would feel it their right nay,
their obligation to gloat. Four sisters already married and the final two both now
affianced to worthy men! Mischief shone in the look she sent him over her
shoulder,  Even your brother, once the despair of every matchmaking Mama in
society, is happily settled. No wonder the ton have declared you to be the
embodiment of Cupid himself.
A wave of embarrassment rose in Elias, and he grimaced,  A silly appellation.
I was quite annoyed to hear of it.
Lady Durham chuckled,  I found it amusing, especially tonight. Is St.
Valentine s Day not supposed to be Cupid s busiest evening? Yet here you are
without occupation, having successfully accomplished all your goals.
Drawn to her side, Elias positioned himself so as to see her profile. Soft curls
called for release from pins and combs so they might flow over her body. The sweet
clarity of cheek and jaw and throat begged for his lips to taste, arouse, devour, and
then use them as pathways to further pleasure. Her heavy-lidded eyes, dark and
unfathomable, looked swiftly at him and away again, her breath hitching on an
inhalation.
Desire wild and sweet as her perfume exploded in his stomach, quickening
his heartbeat and stiffening his prick, but he kept his voice level, matter-of-fact.
 My only goal was to fulfil my responsibility to my family.  Tis ridiculous for the ton
to ascribe any god-like attributes to the manner of my achieving it.
Lady Durham turned to scrutinize his face, eyes veiled, yet probing.  But
 twas such a lofty ambition, you will agree?
It had been an overwhelming objective but he would not admit as much not
even to her. Strange to look back now, to recall the immense weight of the charge
put on him at the age of only seventeen by his father s death. The lightening of his
spirit now he had discharged that duty was almost palpable.
Injecting a hint of humour into his voice, he replied,  No greater ambition
than that of any man given a family to care for, so comparing me to Cupid seems
to be refining rather too much on the matter.
 True, my lord, with a light laugh she moved away from his side, and he
turned to watch her walk toward the fireplace. The sway of her hips, the undulating
path of her heart-bedecked train, enticed him to follow but he held his position.
 Your physique is, shall I say, rather too well developed to be the young Cupid.
And, the amused tilt of her lips, the smouldering shadows in her eyes instantly
ignited an answering flame in his belly,  Wings could prove to be an impediment.
If he had wings Helena could not have knelt, naked and pressed against his
back the previous night, moonlight-shaded hair falling over his shoulder into his
lap. They could not have watched their intertwined reflections in the mirror above
her dressing table as she wrapped a thick tress of hair around his cock. There
would be no sublime sensation of satin-cream flesh behind, silken sin before, as she
took him to the brink of orgasm.
 Indeed, wings could prove problematic, he replied. It was all he could
manage through the confluence of desire and longing clogging his throat.
Helena s smile widened, but her gaze drifted from his to settle on the flames
as she pulled off her elbow-length gloves and set them aside.  Yet although you
seem determined to make light of your accomplishments, I thought you might turn
your skills to finding me a husband.
For one long moment, unable to move or breathe, Elias Camden, tenth Baron
Casterbury, ceased to exist. What lingered after the loss of self was first a cold
mass, horrified by the very thought of what she asked. When the icy shock faded
all that remained was a primitive urge to drive the thought of any other man from
Helena s mind.
 So you have decided to re-enter the marital lists, my lady?
She had been unable to look at him as she made her outrageous request and
now, with a plummeting heart, Helena was glad not to see his face. The cold,
detached tone of his question told her everything she needed to know. Once, the
day after they made love for the first time, Elias had proposed. It was, she was
sure, done out of a sense of honour rather than any true feelings on his part.
Already enamoured with him, unwilling to chance another loveless marriage, her
refusal had been an amused invitation to continue the affair as long as it was
without promises or expectations on either part.
Now so in love she could hardly bear it, Helena realised her first instincts had
been correct. No matter the ease they experienced being together or the ecstasy
found in each other s arms, Elias had no interest in taking her to wife.
Being right had never hurt so horribly before.
Pride alone kept the slight smile on her face, the amused lightness in her
voice as he came to stand beside her, resting an elbow on the mantelpiece.  The
thought has occurred to me, a careless shrug to seem unconcerned, even as her
skin prickled with awareness. Drawing a breath redolent with his essence into her
lungs further inflamed her shameful desires. Strange to think them shameful only
now his disinterest in her beyond the bed was clear.  And I think Papa would be
happy to see me settled once more.
 Ah, yes, I m sure the duke would like to know his daughter is in good hands.
But that begs the question, my lady what are you looking for in a husband?
You, Elias, only you.
 I hardly know, aware of his gaze on her face, she finally raised hers to
meet it, forcing the smile to stay on her lips. His eyes looked different, darker than
their normal sky blue tone; glassy, as though fever had taken hold of him.
Stumbling slightly over the words, she continued,  You...you are the expert, Elias.
What do you think I need?
ME.
The word roared through his mind, his heart, his soul, but he clenched his
teeth and kept it from finding release into the air. Instead he stepped closer to
trace the curve of her lips with his forefinger, wanting only to die, drowning, in the
dark maelstrom of her eyes.
 You would entrust me with such a delicate task? Keeping his voice steady
and cool was the most difficult thing he had ever attempted or achieved.
Helena s lips quivered beneath his touch, the smile fading, her tongue
slipping out to touch his burning flesh.  Of course, It was but a thread of sound,
and deep inside he exulted at the evidence of her arousal.  I believe you know me
better than anyone.
Closer yet he moved, forcing her head to tip back, exposing the delicate line
of her throat. Her breasts brushed his chest with each shallow breath, hers or his.
 I know you more intimately, perhaps, he let his finger slide down to pause on the
racing pulse at the base of her neck,  Should I use that knowledge as my guide?
 If that will serve, my lord.
Helena heard the desire in her own passion-drenched words, and burned
anew. Her intention had not been to seduce, or be seduced. But if this was the last
chance to be with him she would push all scruples aside and grasp it with both
hands.
 It will, I think. Lightly, lightly, he teasingly swept the swell of her breasts
above her décolletage.  You are a woman of impulse, of whim, who is wont to seize
any opportunity that takes her fancy.
 How can you say that, my lord? On what evidence do you base that
hypothesis?
He chuckled and her heart thundered in her ears as his hands moved to her
shoulders, sliding the small sleeves down her arms. Bending his head, Elias proved
neither stays nor shift were an impediment to marauding lips. Pushing both aside
he lifted her breasts free of her bodice, brushing his thumbs across the tightly
aching tips. His satisfied groan as he circled first one then the other nipple with his
tongue almost took her beyond all restraint. Instinctively her hands rose to his hair,
fingers tunnelling into the thick silky mass.
 Our first carriage ride, when I had no intention of seducing you, but you
made it impossible for me to resist. Elias sucked her nipple between his lips, just
as he had sucked her throbbing clitoris that night. The memory made her shudder
drew a low moan from deep inside.  You offered yourself so sweetly, even knowing
we chanced discovery could not stop me from taking you.
Laying back on the carriage seat, spread open for him, was the most natural,
most necessary thing she had ever done. So suddenly, so completely had she
wanted him, no bounds or mores of society would have stopped her. Ready to be
taken, prepared for the invasion of his thick, hard cock, she had not expected him
to kneel between her thighs and possess her in a different way. The hot slick slide
of his tongue across her flesh, the commanding tug of his lips, had thrown her
immediately into orgasm.  I didn t think... you could make me feel so much, so
soon that I would fall in love with you.
 My point exactly, Straightening to his full height, Elias spread broad palms
over her buttocks and drew her, unresisting, against his body.  You act on instinct,
without thought. With a tilt of his hips he drove his cock over her gown, along the
centre line of her stomach. Shuddering, Helena clutched his arms for balance.  You
need a man who can curb you
Stung, she reached up, tugging at his perfectly tied cravat until it fell away. A
nip on his neck made him shudder in turn, and Helena gloried in knowing how to
heighten his excitement.  So I need a firm hand on the reins?
Elias chuckled, but there was no warmth in the harsh sound,  Oh, yes, you
do. But the right man for you would also know when to let you have your head.
She would have laughed, except his hands had somehow found their way
under her gown to the bare flesh of her thighs, and she could only moan,  Like you
did last night?
 Yes, it was a growl, full of excitement and, strangely, anger.  Exactly like
last night.
 What else do I need, Elias? Helena shifted against him, initiating another
slide of his erection across her trembling stomach,  Tell me.
He eased his body slightly away, gathering her dress in his hands, holding it
up with his arms as he encircled her once more.  You need a man of strength.
With firm determined hands he lifted her, and Helena wrapped her legs
tightly around his waist, gasping as his fabric covered cock nestled against the
pulsing flesh of her cunt.  Yes, he groaned,  Yes, with strength to match your
own but with gentleness too. His fingers dipped deep between her thighs from
behind, sliding slowly inexorably into the wetness he created simply by being.  For
you like to be touched gently too, and to keep you a man must be prepared to be
both iron and silk.
Oh, the wonder of soft seeking fingers slipping, touching, circling,
penetrating, exploring exciting her until release seemed but a heartbeat away. Did
he realise the truth of what he was saying, doing? He spoke of strength and
gentleness, conquest and the tender enslavement of the conquered. How could he
not understand it had already been done she was captured and captivated by
him?
Trembling, she held on, let her lips move and kiss and silently whisper her
love against his sensitive neck. Elias shuddered again and again, cock hard and
thrusting against her mound, hand gentle and shivering between her legs.
Tears rushed suddenly to her eyes and she dipped her forehead to his
shoulder so they would not fall against his skin.
 Elias, she whispered it, knowing he would hear this, the only words she
could say out loud,  Elias, my love,  I need you inside me, to pretend I will always
have you, so I will not fall apart.
 Ah, Elias stepped forward until the cool wall was hard against her back.
Braced against it, she reached between their bodies to find the buttons of his
breeches, fumbling them open with shaking fingers.  This is the final attribute you
must have in a man.
Surprised, she almost looked up from her chore, stopped herself at the last
moment. He must not see the wetness on her lashes.  What is that?
 Sometimes he must allow you to take the lead.
Finally, finally, the falls sagged open, and she moaned in relief to feel the
hard length of his cock in her hand. Tracing the contours, feeling the velvet flesh
move over the engorged core, the bead of moisture at the tip, drove her beyond
passion into a semi-dream state. There, unlike the real world, it was only them,
their desire, the emotion he inspired within her heart.
 And at others times, Elias whispered,  The man who loves you must be
prepared to risk all, and take control.
The depth in his voice, the passion, was such that when he lifted her chin she
could no more resist the demand of his fingers than stop loving him. Meeting his
gaze, Helena felt her heart stutter, unsure of whether the emotion in his eyes was
but a dream.
Slowly he raised her higher, the tip of his cock poised against her quivering
desperate flesh. He didn t speak not with words but his eyes seemed to glow with
promise as he lowered her, shuddering, to enfold him. Deep, deeper he slid heart
deep, soul deep until there was not a corner of her not penetrated, permeated by
him. Widening his stance, he leaned into her, still and strong and throbbing, until
she felt no longer herself but a part of him, and together they truly were complete.
The tears came again, welling, pooling and finally slipping down her cheeks.
Impatiently she blinked them away, wanting only to keep looking into Elias s eyes
as he took her to ecstasy.
He moved one slow intense withdrawal and thrust. Instinctively her body
arched, writhed to meet his and, transfixed, they still stared into each other s eyes.
Again he thrust, and again, and she rocked forward, shuddering, soundlessly crying
out her deepening bliss. She touched his face and neck, but neither looked away,
hardly blinked, lest the connection be broken.
Faster now deeper, harder each impact of their bodies binding her soul
more tightly to him. Elias s face was set in desire s strictest cast, but his eyes
blazed with something soft yet far stronger than mere passion beautiful,
wondrous, locked on her face.
The rising tension twisted inside and she tightened her grip on his shoulders,
using her thighs to help her rise and fall.
 Helena, her name was a prayer on his lips, a benediction to her heart,
 Helena.
The rough, sweet sound of his voice pushed her to the threshold, opened the
door and pulled her, sobbing, through the portal of release. Only then did her eyes
close, forced shut by pleasure. But the bond between them remained, strong and
true, from her heart to his. With one last whisper of her name Elias stiffened, cock
pulsing in ecstasy, and the power of it shocked her into orgasm once more.
Slowly, slowly, the rapture of the moment waned, but still Elias held her
tight, joined to his body in the most intimate way.
 Why were you crying, love? Will you tell me?
Shattered, unable to respond, Helena pressed her face into his shoulder.
 Then, can I tell you why I also felt like weeping?
Disbelief made her lift her head to search his beloved face. Helena was
shocked to see the sheen of tears in his eyes. Suddenly frightened she rested her
fingers against his lips.
 Elias 
Reaching for her hand, he kissed the palm and placed it against his heart.
The strong quick beat pounded into her flesh. Leaning forward, he put his lips close
to her ear and whispered.
 The first time we touched I was devastated by the depth of my feelings, not
realising they would grow with each subsequent encounter. You assured me it was
only lust. Why then does my heart crave you so, my soul insist I belong to only
you? I risk destruction with this love, for if you leave me I will never truly be alive
again. But I can no more stay away from you than grow wings and become Cupid.
If it is your desire to end our affair, tell me now Helena. Do not leave me
wondering.
Relief was devastating, made her head swim; stole breath and voice, even
the ability to move. Only when a shudder wracked Elias, and he dipped his forehead
to her shoulder, did she realise he still did not know her heart.
 Oh, Elias, to me you are love personified, she began to shake, unable to
fully articulate the emotions thundering through her. It was still too new, the
awareness of his feelings too overwhelming to be either denied or acknowledged.
So she smiled against his cheek, and simply whispered,  And, darling Cupid, will
you be mine?
His arms tightened around her, promising safety and shelter and love so
much love!  I already am, beloved, Joy roughened his voice and thrilled her soul,
 And always will be.
Biography
A transplant to the  Frozen North , Anya was born and raised on the
Caribbean island of Jamaica. Having had a variety of careers, she now spends as
much time as possible hiding from the cold and writing steamy stories of love and
acceptance. Encouragement and support is provided by her loving Hubster and
children, although the latter like to pretend she writes religious tracts. The cats
really don t care what she does, as long as the food bowl is kept full and they
receive attention on demand.
For more on Anya s writing journey, and probably more information than you
really want, please visit her Samhain Publishing author page at
http://samhainpublishing.com/authors/anya-delvay, or her website at
www.anyadelvay.com