A shaky stutter of breath was all he heard as he dipped his head, burying his tongue in her sex. He tasted the tangy scent of her, and his cock went even more rock hard.
Pippa’s delicate fingers wove through his hair, pulling him closer while he slowly feasted on her, savoring her essence on histongue. Her thighs trembled around him as he teased her nub with his tongue, circling and claiming.
Her cries of pleasure, the arch of her back, the grip of her hands in his hair was everything he needed to inform him he was pleasing her. It wasn’t about him; it was her. Everything he had done had always been for her until he’d lost her.
His heart pounded; blood rushed to his cock as he entered one finger into her drenched heat. He captured the small bundle of nerves with his mouth, sucking as he fucked her with his fingers.
“Oh God!” she called out, her body rigid, as she held him in place. “Chau—St. Clara!” she yelled the title, causing him to slow.
Kissing his way up her pliant body, he pressed his lips to hers greedily, willing his cock to go down and trying to hide his disappointment.
“You will say it one day,” he whispered, turning over to hold her in his arms.
“I-I don’t know if I can,” she admitted, burrowing her face in his chest.
He lifted her chin so that he could stare into the rich pool of hazel that had captured him as a boy. “You will one day, and then you will truly be mine.” He pressed a sweet kiss to her lips, questioning her wide-eyed fear. “Rest, Kitten, for tomorrow, you will be my wife.”
Pippa closed her eyes, willing the tears away. She was blissfully satisfied and spent from their activities, but she knew there was more to come. A small part of her was disappointed that he did not want to take their intimacy further that night.
She had lost herself in him, had practically begged for him to take her, and she had nearly said his name. A name she knew as well as her own.
He gave her exactly what she wanted, and she needed more.
Strictly for scientific purposes, of course.
It is only a year. I mean nothing to him. He is not my Chauncey.
The mantra she had thought would be a shield for her was breaking her in two. It had no power because in that moment, he was her Chauncey.
Sweet, attentive, kind, and loving. He was also devilishly wicked, saying the most improper things she had ever heard.
She looked up at him from his chest. His eyes were closed, and it seemed as if he had succumbed to sleep. Then his eyes opened and were full of hunger.
Her breath caught as he leaned down, his lips finding hers greedily, and she kissed him back, exhaustion overtaking her. Pippa’s body was strangely needy: her nipples still tingled from his attention, her sex pulsating as if begging for him to complete their coupling.
She could taste herself on his tongue, making her feel deliciously wicked.
St. Clara stroked her check, his eyes dancing, lips graced with a permanent smile. He was happy, and Pippa wished she could join him, but the words of a dead man haunted her … still, nine years later.
“You’re nothing to him, girl.”
The cruel words seeped through her bones, and she remembered them fresh, anew. Pippa had locked away thewords and the events of that day. Being in St. Clara’s arms had everything returning to remind her of their past.
The strange orange hair, rounded belly, and confession assaulted Pippa for the first time in years. The memories had been slowly returning to her since she arrived at Bennett House.
St. Clara stroked her hair, causing her to blink and focus on him. “What are you thinking, Kitten?”
“That we will be married by this time tomorrow.” She sat up, covering herself with the duvet. “What happens when we’re back in London?”
“I must pay my debts. I’m sure you want to return to your work and your friends.” He kissed her hand, looking up at her with those overwhelming brown eyes that would surely be her weakness. “And you will be my duchess.”
The smile widened, breaking her in two.
Dear Lord, her emotions were all over the place.
“Will you see your mistress when you return?” she asked, trying to stand to go in search of her nightdress, but he stopped her with a gentle touch to her arm.
He rose without saying a word, finding her night dress, discarded across the room.
