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Forbidden Love

Rosie Zweet








This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Copyright © 2017 by Rosie Zweet

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof
may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever
without the express written permission of the publisher
except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.



First Edition:
July, 2017





Author’s note: This work is intended for ADULT audiences only.

All characters are 18+


Content

Lady Arabella Shaw

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Excerpt #1!

Excerpt #2!









Author’s note: This work is more romance than erotica unlike my other works.


**This event is three years after “Charity, the Generous Miss” and twenty years before “His Rebellious Ward”.


Lady Arabella Shaw

1805 England.

Tomorrow is my wedding day but here I am now, playing a sad song under the moonlight. As my fingers stroke the keys my mind wanders at my current predicament.

These last three years have been hard for me. Sometimes it is tiresome to keep smiling and polite when ones know what people whisper behind their back. My marriage won’t be a love match. My fiancé, Richard, needs a noble bloodline to elevate his while I…

But still, I feel guilty that I can’t love Richard like I am supposed to. I know Richard is a nice gentleman, one of the few person who doesn’t judge me badly when Victor, my former fiancé, left me for another. And what scandal it was. I still remember the pitying look people gave me.

With my blonde hair, blue eyes and generally pretty form people can’t find a fault so it must be my manner that is bad.

But it is all in the past. And now, I should be happy that I am going to marry a handsome, wealthy man, albeit untitled, unlike my departed father.

I exhale softly. I still can’t believe my father is gone. He was hale and healthy when he went out on that fateful day. I can’t believe he fell from his stallion for he was good at horsemanship.

If I don’t know that Victor—my distant cousin, my father’s heir and now my guardian—is a good and honorable gentleman, maybe I would think that he murdered my father to get the title and land, faster. Despite his callous treatment at our betrothal, I know Victor is not that kind of man.

And that is the problem. I know the man, I esteem him. And living in this house—his house now—is a torture. I know it is not a fine reason to hastily marry another, though.

I sigh again. Victor doesn’t make this easier either. He is still kind and gentle as always, like the first time I saw him at my mother funeral, five years ago. Always cater to my need, and I know he secretly helps me to restore my reputation back.

Maybe I am thinking too much of his gesture. But few times, I catch him looking at me with longing.

I laugh a bitter laugh. No, I am sure that one is my own imagination that conjures the image but still…

I shake my head. It is too late anyway. He already jilted me three years ago and married to my orphaned cousin, Charity, who is loved by all. Of course, Victor fell for her too, for she is a bright happy girl with an easy and charming smile.

“You should sleep now.” I jump and stop my fingers in mid-stroke, leaving the melody hanging, as I hear Victor’ deep voice.

“It seems I startle you. Please forgive—”

“No, no… it’s fine. It’s just my mind wanders,” I cut him fast. Suddenly, I feel nervous seeing my guardian here.

He smiles softly. “Are you having cold feet now?”

I know he is joking so I just smile in answer.

“You don’t have to, you know… you can stay in this house as long as you wish. This is your house, to begin with anyway,” he says somberly.

“My father is dead, and it’s yours now,” I say. “And I’m nineteen, terribly old, don’t you think?” I add with a smile.

He smiles wider, and I can see a flash of a dimple on his left cheek. He looks so handsome with his brown hair and green eyes.

“If you are… so what am I?”

“Ancient maybe…” I tease him.

He walks closer and sits on the bench beside me, hitting few keys, making some random melody.

“Did I play too loud? I’m—”

“No. It’s I who can’t sleep. I love your play,” he pauses, turns his head and locking my gaze. “It’s a shame I won’t hear it again,” he adds with an odd glint in his green eyes.

As if fall under a spell, I can’t tear my gaze from his stormy eyes.

“You’ll make a beautiful bride…” he pauses and leans closer. “Your eyes… I never saw another as blue as yours… I must be mad for leaving you three years ago,” he whispers, then he puts his hand on my full lips, and then to my chin, stroking gently as he moves slowly.

“You love my cousin, not mad,” I whisper low. I don’t want to break the spell, my heart is hammering fast.

He smiles a bitter smile. “Do you think so?” He removes his hand and sobered instantly as if just remembering who I am and who he is.

“I was young, full of youthful pride and ideal. Maybe if I’m jaded like…” he stops as if remembering a thing he shouldn’t say.

I look at his somber face, wondering what he is trying to say and why he stops.

He schools his face, masking a glimpse of paint I have noticed before and chuckles mirthlessly. “Maybe, it’s my penance for hurting you. And don’t bother to lie, saying that you’re fine. I see, Bella. I see the pain I give you throughout these years.”

What can I say? Yes, I resented you, Victor, but it didn’t last long and like a fool, I can’t stop loving you.

“I know it’s too late, and I don’t have right to, but I never beg your forgiveness properly. Can you please forgive me, Bella?” he adds with a soft voice almost like a whisper.

“What for?” I ask, trying to break the gloomy mood.

He smiles again. “You know what for—”

“You can pay me with a kiss,” I say in a fast rush. I see his eyes widened slightly.

Whatever I’m thinking.

“Um… Victor… I—”

I don’t get a chance to finish my word as his mouth descent fast, slanting, brushing my lips gently at first and then faster and ravenous.

Now, his arms are enveloping my slender body in a tight embrace. Then, he lifts, putting me on his lap.

His hand is wandering on my bottom, shaping it as he kisses me harder, wilder. I feel his tongue boldly invades my mouth. I startle at first, but I learn fast, and now our tongues dance together.

Suddenly, he wrenches his mouth. “Oh, God,” he says in ragged breath which matching mine. “We shouldn’t—”

I stop his protest with another kiss. He seems to resist me but not for long. He begins to answer my kiss with his. We are going wild.

He scoots my bottom closer to his body, and I feel his hardness down there.

Oh my! I grind my throbbing core to his.

“Oh… god,” he moans, he stops kissing my lips. His mouth goes down, kissing my jaw.

I arch my back as he goes down further, kissing, biting my neck.

He lifts my body as if I am weighing nothing and puts my back on cold floor below.

He continues his journey down, kissing, licking my clothed breast.

“Oh Victor,” I moan louder, arching my back for his hot mouth.

He comes back up, kissing my lips now while he grinds his hardness to my core down below.

“Tell me to stop,” he says with ragged breath.

But instead of following his commands, I clasp my legs to his hips for a better angle, making him press my needy core even harder.

“Arggh,” he groans.

Oh Victor… please…” I plead.

He puts his forehead on mine, his breath short, harsh and loud. “I can’t take your maidenhead. It wouldn’t be fair—ahhh…”

He moans again as I grind my core to his manhood.

Then, he fumbles down there, freeing us from our confines.

I feel his pulsing, hot thing on my mound, and then he starts to move, to and fro, without going inside while his fingers rubbing flower’s lips.

“Oh… oh…” I moan as I feel he pinches my pearl.

He grabs my bottom, angling my flower so his manhood can slither between its lips harder and faster.

“Oh, God,” he groans louder.

Hearing his huffing and puffing makes me grow wetter and hotter until finally, it gets unbearable.

“Victor… oh… ahh…” I feel my belly clenches and my inside flutter as I creaming.

Above me, I hear Victor grunts louder still and his hips jerk, once, twice…

“Arrrghh,” he yells. And I feel hot liquid landed on my thigh and belly.

“Arrgh.” He jerks once more, and then he collapses above me.

I can feel his heartbeat still beating fast like mine.

We stay like this for a while until we come down from our height.

“I’m sorry,” I hear his hoarse voice.

“No—”

“You don’t understand… I’m taking advantage of you,” he says angrily. Then, he leans up, staying on his elbows, looking down at my face. “It’s vile thing to take advantage of a young girl like you… I don’t want to be like him,” he adds vehemently, and then he smiles bitterly.

Him?

“Who I’m kidding. I’m just like him now,” he says softly.

“Him? Who?” I ask in confusion.

“Forget it,” he says, closing his dark eyes.

I pick a lose strand from his forehead. “No harm done. I am still virgin, aren’t I?”

He opens his eyes. His guilt is clear there.

I smile sadly. “I know you’re a good man, Victor. That’s way I can’t hate you. What happens tonight is my fault, not yours. Let’s forget it,” I say as I lean up, giving a soft peck on his lips.

But I know I will never forget this night…

***

What should one feel when the man, who she loves, walks her to the altar, giving her to another man?

I feel numb. That’s it. I wish it is just a dream, no, a nightmare is more apt.

The minutes pass in a blur after Victor gives my hand to Richard. I say my vow. The vow that I break as soon as it is being said for I love another.

But this is our fate…

It takes all my strength to stay calm and not crying my heart out.

I glance up to my husband as his lips descent to give me a chaste peck. Suddenly, I feel a pang of guilt to my new husband.

I must survive this life. If not for my own, it is for Richard. He deserves better than an unfaithful and morose wife.

I just wish, my heart doesn’t hurt this much…

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Also By Rozie Zweet

For Uncle’s Heir

My Uncle’s Nightly Visit

Helping Uncle Getting Hard

Stretched for His Baby

Last Ride before the Wedding

Ride to London

Seeded by the Gardener

Taken Care of by the Butler

From an Innocent Miss to a Bride

The Colonel’s Errant Wife

My Last Wifely Duty

His Father’s Approval

Replacing Mama

What Pa Did While I Sleep

Wedding Night with My Father-In-Law

Taking Care of My Father’s Urgent Need

My Drunken Father Does Me

Lonely Days with My Father-In-Law

My Uncle Teaches Me before the Wedding

Charity and the Villagers

Charity and Her Uncle

His Rebellious Ward

Forbidden Love

My Father-In-Law-Baby

A Ride with My Suitor’s Father

My Angry Father Checks My Cherry

In Name Only

Teaching My New Father

What Uncle Did Under My Skirt

The Headmaster’s Bedding Lesson

My Father Teaches Me to Please

The Explorer’s Daughter

The Explorer’s Wife

In My Father’s Arm

Basic Instinct: Papa and I in the Jungle

Teasing the Butler

Addicted to Doctor’s Magic Seed

By Aunt’s Order: Uncle Deflowers Me

Consoling My Niece

Older Man: The Mistress’ Faithful Servant (Part 1)

Older Man: The Mistress’ Faithful Servant (Part 2)

Older Man: The Mistress’ Faithful Servant (Part 3)


Box Set:

Lady Anne and Her Uncle (1~5)

Lady Lily and Her Sly Older Men (1~3)

The Gullible Miss Jane (1~3)

Charity Series & His Forbidden Wards (4 short stories)

Bundle: Older Man & Younger Woman (Regency Lady, 20 Short Stories)


Excerpt #1!

Charity and the Villagers

1805 England.

I walk with basket full of bread to Peter the Carpenter’s house. He is the father of my former maid, Molly. She made me promise to take care his aging father before she went to London to seek a better life.

I am singing softly as I walk through the village’s dusty road. Occasionally, I nod my head or have a small talk when I see someone I know.

Unlike my lofty Cousin Arabella, I know all these villagers by name. They are my friend, my real friend. I like them and they me.

As an orphan and poor relation, I know that I am just a little more than servant myself. My uncle, Lord Shaw, and my departed Aunt never cruel, or treat me less than what I deserve, of course, but I am not their daughter. They are not pampering me like Cousin Arabella.

I admit that I am little jealous of my beautiful cousin. At sixteen, she is only two years younger than me, but she has it all. She has light blonde hair, slender, graceful body and angelic face, and foremost handsome fiancé who will marry her when she turns eighteen.

I am not saying that I am hideous. It is just I have wicked face and body, Molly often told me. Face and body of a courtesan. I am not sure what she meant by that, for I always live in the country side and never saw the lady of the night.

I think it is related to my cherry full lips, cat eyes, big tits, and rounded bottom.

Without I realize, the sun is already high in the sky and Molly’s small cottage comes to view. I walk faster to its door and swiftly knock the wooden door.

Shortly, the door opens. And Peter wrinkled face greets me with a smile.

“Come in, Miss,” he says enthusiastically before he closes the door with a soft click.

“This is bread from the cook,” I say, putting the basket on the table. “How’s your health?”

“I’m good, Miss. But you know…”

I look at his poor face. I know his ailment. And after all this time, I wonder why he still so shy.

“Oh Peter… of course, I’ll help you. Just sit there and open your breeches,” I say with a kind smile.

He smiles in return, and swiftly sit down and pull out his troublesome cock. I glance down at his long and thick rod. It never ceases to amaze me that someone so old and frail like Peter has a cock that big. Its veined shaft and mushroom tip looks scary. I don’t tell him how it scares me, though. I know it is hard for him to open up to me like this.

I still remember how he tried to hide his ailment at first. Until at my third visit he finally confessed about his trouble and told me that Molly always takes care of his stiff, throbbing manhood.

I look at his bony face and hastily kneel in front of him, taking his erect manhood in my small hand. My hand is barely big enough to circle his thick girth.

But I try my best to milk him. I move my hand up and down his long, hot cock.

“Ah…” Peter starts to moan and breathing harsher.

At first, his cock spurting easily but lately it takes almost half an hour to make him finish and soft again. Sometimes, I have to resort to taking his rod in my mouth to make it faster.

Today, I don’t have much time. Arabella’s fiancé will come for dinner. And my uncle commands me to join them.

So, I lean closer, putting the tip of Peter’s big manhood in my mouth. And I swirl my tongue on it.

“Sweet Jesu,” I hear Peter mutters above me.


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Excerpt #2!

His Rebellious Ward

1825 London, England.

My heart is still pounding hard as I hear the butler’s footsteps receding in the corridor. I can’t believe I can pull the stunt.

Olivia is right. All I need is haughty tone and confident manner to fool the servants.

I flop my body hard to the big, masculine bed. It bounces slightly under my weight.

Well, it is a good luck that I find this room. The butler insists that they don’t have a ready room for a guess in this house. I still remember his face paled when I open this room and see that the bed and room already made.

This room is my guardian’s room. But I know he holed up in the country all the year, like all man in his advanced age wont to do.

I wonder how he will react when my shopping’s bill comes later, for I am sure it will be huge.

Will he angry? I hope he will but I know he won’t. He has to care for me to be angry but he doesn’t, I know that. I suspect he doesn’t even know how I look like now, how I have grown up these last five years.

I wonder why my guardian—Uncle Victor, even though he is not really my uncle, he just some distant cousin but I call him thus since I was a little—seems to hate me? I still remember how he didn’t even spare a glance when I was sent to his house, after my father passed away. He didn’t waste much time to get rid of me. The next day, he sent me to boarding school. His rejection still hurt even after all this year.

At first, I deliberately made silly troubles to make him take me back, but sadly no, he doesn’t care. He just sent his servant to move me to another boarding house if I made too much trouble. And now, I have to accept his negligence with good grace.

Gingerly, I touch my diamond pendant, my eighteen birthday present, that settles in the valley of my rounded breasts.

At least, he always remembers my birthday.

But I am grown up now. I am not going to accept this dull existence, and let myself to be left rotten and forgotten. I will fight back if I can. I will go to parties and meet eligible bachelors, marrying well and freeing my guardian from his burden.

I smile at the thought. Dancing, partying, flirting and shopping, sound so fun. I have to thank to Olivia at this idea too.

I glance up to the window, seeing the afternoon light start to fade. Suddenly, I feel tired. Maybe, I should sleep.

Tomorrow, I am going to shop with Olivia and her mother after all, preparing my ball gowns—not only that, I need all kind of gowns.

I glance down at my worn, schoolgirl dress. I sigh heavily. It won’t do, this dress won’t do at all.

I stand up and walking to the big mirror on the wall.

Well, I’m not that bad looking.

I know my breasts are too big to be fashionable, my hips too.

I glance up to my face, seeing my pale platinum blonde hair and bright blue eyes. At least, I look like my deceased mother but not as angelic as hers, of course. My face has a touch of earthly beauty my nanny often says. My lips are little too full to be ethereal for example. And my eyes are too wicked looking to be serene. But I like it that way. I don’t want to look cold and unapproachable like my mother.

One needs to be happy and bright, isn’t it?

***

I feel soft stroke in my long, unbound hair, and I feel a warm, large body surround me. It feels so close, making me feel safe. I scoot closer, seeking the warmness.

“Bella…” I hear a man’s soft voice, and then small pecks on my lips, chin, jaw and the tip of my nose.

Immediately, I open my eyes, then I see his eyes. It is green, even in the dim light I can see it clearly. He smiles softly, and I can see a flash of dimple flash in his cheek.

He doesn’t look as old as I remember. And he looks terribly handsome too. I flush and I feel my heart beats faster.

“Bella…” he says again, leaning closer for another small kisses.

Bella is my mother’s name, Arabella.

And I know him. I know the man who kiss me so gently as if he afraid I will fade into mist. He is Uncle Victor, my guardian.

What the meaning of this?

My brain muddled by his many kisses and I can’t bring myself to tell him to stop. I let him kiss me deeper and stroke my body as he pleases.

I moan softly. And suddenly, he stops and pulled back.

“I know it’s a dream,” he whispers as he trails his finger on my swollen lips. “You look more beautiful than I remember.”

My heart is beating faster at his admission. But my sense slowly crawling back and I can smell brandy and taste it on my mouth.

He’s drunk.

“Let me hold you tonight, love,” he murmurs, then he puts his strong arm around me, bring me closer to his warm body and tugs me close under his chin.

I feel his labored breath slowing down.

Is he sleeping now?

But I don’t dare to move. I feel squeeze in my heart. Seeing him like this, he looks vulnerable, warm and gentle. And I feel my anger slowly gone like mist under the sun.

After hearing his soft snore, I relax and oddly, I like the feel of his hard body around me. It makes me feel safe and loved.

***

The morning light is seeping through the curtain. I open my eyes slowly. I see my guardian is still fast asleep.

I can see his face more clearly now. His brown hair is still thick despite little graying in his temple. His face is relatively smooth with only few lines in his forehead and in the corner of his eyes.

How old is he? Forty? Fifty? No, not fifty surely. The butler is fifty, not my uncle, though.

I glance at his full lips. It seems winking at me. I brave myself to touch it, tracing it like he did to me last night.

“Oh my!” I yelp as he grabs my hand in swift motion.

I see his green eyes burn mine. It seems dark with something.

“Who are you?” he asks in low voice.

“I’m… I—”

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