“Shhh, you must remain calm,” he teased, switching to her other breast and heating her blood anew, the exasperating man.
He was kneeling between her spread legs, preventing her from closing them to get friction in that place that felt hot and wet and tight.
“Aren’t you going to…”
“Hmm?” he asked, her nipple still betwixt his lips. The vibration made tears come to her eyes. She was awash in something, drowned in it, her whole being liquid and poured this way and that by his expert touch. An ocean of pleasure took her under.
“Aren’t you going to penetrate me?” she asked, the question coming out in a rush.
He released his suction on her skin.
“I don’t think I will,” he said, finally looking down and trailing his fingers over her upper thigh.
“Whyever not?” she exclaimed, stunned that any man clearly aroused as her husband would wait even this long to insert himself.
“I want you certain, and wet, and ready,” he said, bringing those fingertips higher and higher on her leg. She was going to scream, wiggle down so she could press herself against him! At this moment, she was all of those things, and he was simply teasing her!
“But—”
“And we need not rush into another baby, much as one or three would delight me,” he said, stroking the hair between her legs with feathering touches.
Her head suddenly cleared. Another baby. Phin was only six months old, and she’d been about to beg for her husband’s manhood, not even thinking of the consequences. It was like cold water, the fear of so quickly returning to morning illness and the ache of a heavy belly.
Erasmus lowered himself and placed a gentle kiss on her lips. “I can see I’ve upset you. I just want you to be happy and well.”
She nodded, not looking into his eyes. “I wasn’t thinking,” she said, suddenly wishing she could roll up in that counterpane and experience this humiliation alone.
“There now,” said Erasmus, dropping a kiss on her neck. “There are ways to enjoy a night in our bed — our marital bed — without risk of another baby basket separating us so soon.”
Her heart dropped when she realized what this could mean for their marriage.
“But don’t we have to…”
He raised his eyebrows, looking down at her with a stern expression. “Yes, Amy?”
“Don’t we have to consummate the marriage for it to be legal?” she asked in a rush.
Erasmus dipped his head to her cheek, which had once been flushed from desire, now from humiliation.
“But we consummated the marriage,” he mumbled into her tender skin.
“We…”
“We have a son. You’ve already given me a fine boy,” he said. “He arrived while we were married.”
Was her husband mad? He knew as well as she did that Phineas was the product of that horrifying workhouse.
“I’ll help you recall,” he said, kissing slowly down to her collarbone. “I had you spread out like this on our bed. Your breasts weren’t quite so full then, since you weren’t yet expecting or nursing. But they were so pretty with the tightest little pink nipples that you allowed me to taste.”
He gave one lick on her nipple to punctuate the story.
“You were ready to join our bodies at last. You told me so in the barn and then in the hallway to our bedroom that day. I had all the sense of a young bull, proud and hard, my sack fit to burst for my young bride’s cunny.”
Erasmus let his fingers trail over her slit, teasing the lips that swelled and ached for his touch.
“I didn’t think I could stand another moment of being outside your slick clasp. I tugged you into this very bedroom, placed you on the bed, and set about getting a baby on you.”
Amy didn’t realize what he was doing at first; she thought he was being silly. But as her husband told her the story of how they’d supposedly made Phineas — an impossibility — she saw precisely what he described, felt the pleasure of making a child with a loving and gentle man.
