A Most Unusual Mistress
My latest Regency is called A Most Unusual Mistress.
As I started this story, I wondered for the umpteenth time, why am I drawn to the regency period? I mean of course I read Georgette Heyer with all my mates, but …. I was not a regency reader.
Then an idle chat with my crit group and my first Regency was born from a dare. I started to research and I was hooked by all the intrigue.
It was f/f/m. (Wallflowers Don't Wilt)
My second and third m/m/f… you can see a pattern here! (To Please A Lady, and Almost Entente Cordiale)
So how come this is m/f? Yup no third in sight. Well, the title says it all. Adriana is a most unusual mistress. There's no room for a third!
Why be a wife if a mistress has more fun? All Adriana has to do is get Ashley to agree...
Finding her intended bollocks-deep in his mistress when she is trembling with wanting and suppressed desires does not impress Adriana. If being a mistress entails being part of such passion, then a mistress only she will be.
Ashley, Earl of Addersley, thinks otherwise. He wants a wife on his terms. Terms that would send this lady of the Ton screaming...or would they?
An agreement, a challenge, a single night of mind-blowing passion very well may determine the outcome. Wife or mistress? Which shall it be?
The door to her bedchamber was ajar, the flickering flames of the fire throwing patterns and reflections on the walls inside.
In his usual understated manner, he pushed the door open farther and saw her sitting quietly in a chair beside the hearth, a lamp beside her and an open book on her lap. Her long hair was loosened from all confines and streamed in glossy waves down her back, partially covering her gauzy robe. Seemingly she did not hear him, for she neither looked up from her book nor acknowledged his presence.
“My orders were explicit. I wish you to be naked. You knew this and chose to ignore them? As my mistress, you will always greet me on occasions such as this, unclothed. Naked except for this.” He took a string of perfectly matched and graded pearls from his pocket and let them slip between his fingers, their shimmering surfaces dancing in the firelight. Once around her neck they would be a perfect pathway all the way down her body to her cunt.
He watched as Adriana carefully placed a marker into her book before closing it and setting it on the table. Her head tilted up to look at him, and he saw the laughter and desire lurking in her eyes. She made no move to take the pearls from his outstretched hand.
“So?” he prompted.
So she parroted. "As I am not yet your mistress, I see no reason to follow any directives you give me. If and when I do become she, then of course I will heed your directives.”
Tease. So she chose to poke and prod. So be it.
“Then we must discern if that role is one you wish. Possibly ‘tis time for your audition.”
She rose gracefully and stood in front of him, her unfettered breasts, only covered by a thin layer of gauze, rubbing the cloth of his coat, before looking him up and down, slowly, measuring, and to his suddenly impatient cock, arousing.
“And yours, my lord. And yours. However, I cede to your superior knowledge on this occasion and look to you for direction.” He took one soft hand and kissed her wrist before a tiny nip to the soft flesh on her Mount of Venus had her gasping and him groaning with need. Ashley, he admonished himself silently. Remember to go soft and slow will bring the fastest results.
He so wanted those results sooner rather than later. In order to hear that soft, sexy sigh again, he repeated his actions on her other wrist, reveling in the tiny bruise he created.
There and then, he determined once she was his, he would mark her in more ways than a sexy bruise. His mark, whether they became man and wife—which he devoutly hoped—or not, would be inked on her in a place only he would have access to. The thought increased the pressure in his pantaloons as his manhood, swollen already, began to demand immediate recognition and restitution for its patience. He thanked his tailor for the soft- knitted garments that stopped him from being in more agony than he already was.
“Well then, my dear, it is time for me to show you just what you will expect, experience, and enjoy as my mistress. Take the gown off.”
He waited. “Did you not hear?” He deliberately made his voice harsh. “I heard.” He could tell she knew she was insolent in her manner. Her eyes gave her away. “I was making my considered decision.”
“I trust...” His tone was scathing. “That has now been made? And in your own time you will apprise me of it?”
Hah. Why did she like to tweak the tail of the tiger? For she knew it took a lot for him to lose that legendary temper of his. Also that on the rare occasions he did, grown men were known to seek cover. She, however, was continuing to provoke him, and his tail was lashing.
He wondered what he would do if she called his bluff. For he might like to dominate, but he was no true dominant. Coercer, persuader, encourager, yes. But dominant, as some people he knew were? No, never that. His dominance was definite, detailed, but limited to what he wished. That this was nowhere near what a true dominant desired or demanded neither bothered him nor made him wonder why. Ashley was truly comfortable in his own body. Usually. Now his greatest desire was to be comfortable in hers. Ever since his visit from an ill-at-ease Barnes, the newspaper owner, and that astonishing announcement from his—as he thought—contented fiancée, his libido had been rising, intrigued and demanding knowledge of what she wanted.
As he now was mistress-less, it amused him to think he could have both that and a wife—for whatever she said, she would not renege on that agreement—he would make sure of it—in one persona. Perhaps, he mused, as he continued to watch her tussle with herself, the way to keep a husband from straying is to be a wife and lady in the drawing room and a licentious whore in the bedroom, as Ivo had commented.
Still, she stood close, hardly touching. But she made no move to disrobe, merely studied his face, her own expressionless. Time to force the issue.
“By your lack of compliance, do I take it you are no longer desirous of pandering to my every whim? You wish not to service me, how and when I please? Then, my dear, I will go and continue with the plans for our nuptials...” he paused, ready to take the biggest risk so far in all of this risky business. “And, I bid you goodnight.” He bowed, making sure she could not read his eyes, and turned.
He had taken but two steps.
“Stop.” Her voice was shaky but unwavering. He stood but did not turn. “I accept. I will do as you ask.”
Without haste, he changed direction and raised an eyebrow. “Be my wife?”
“No.” Now her voice was determined. Slowly, she smiled a smile both mischievous and full of promise, and her hands moved to the front of her gown. “No, my lord. I am not to be a passing thought in your mind. I am to fill your mind. During every waking moment you will think of me, lust for me. During your sleep, your dreams will be of me, of filling me, and exploring our desires. I will be a mistress and more. I will be your nemesis and your soul.”
Raven can be found lurking on her Fb page.
And her blog
A Most Unusual Mistress can be purchased as an ebook (or in print as part of Rogue Scandals) from
Thanks to Daniel to inviting me here, and to you for reading.