Until his head fell back, and his toes curled when his wife took him both in hand, and in her mouth, without hesitation, and then all he felt was the wet heat of her mouth, and her tight grip, and the bumps of her tongue, and the slightest whisper of a scrape of teeth every now and then, and her other hand, clutching and caressing his thigh, and the softest place where it met his groin.
As he’d learned her, she learned him, as he moaned, and made noises he thought resembled approbation—hoped, really, for his mind was just full of mind-bending pleasure, the sort which came after hours, or days, or centuries of anticipation—and an occasional shift or buck, as gentle as he could.
Another man might’ve seen it as some sort of mark of a lack of manhood, how quickly she had him spilling himself inside her mouth, hands clutching the blanket beneath, teeth biting into his bottom lip, toes curling, and incomprehensible noises escaping him as he saw beautiful, white blankness behind his eyes; however, Thorn knew even if it were an acceptable measure ofmanhood—which it wasn’t—his expediency was solely down to his wife’s talented mouth and fingers.
He let himself fall, and drift, and it wasn’t until he could lift his head again, and peek open his eyes, that Hypatia released him, dropping back on her haunches, licking her lips as he had his fingers, and he thought that truly, he’d been right from the first, this woman commanded him. Somewhat—entirely—overwhelmed by precisely how that felt, and all she’d made him feel till then, he encircled her loosely with his legs, and leaned forward, and captured her lips with his own, and kissed her far longer than he would ever know.
All he knew, was that it was dark by the time they made it to the food; though luckily he’d had the forethought to call it acandlelightdinner.
Chapter Thirteen
There were some things Hypatia had, if not expected from her arrangement with Thorn, then known were a distinct possibility; that sense of possibility had in turn largely factored into her decision to accept his proposal, and risk all the comfort and safety she’d benefited from previously—for no matter how unfulfilled her life was, she had possessed those things.
She’d known from their few minutes together it was likely they would get along, have lively conversations; shared a certain sense of wit, and plain sense.
She’d wagered he was in essence, a good man; respectful, kind,not a wastrel.
That wager had meant she’d wagered something far more important; that she could trust him, that he wouldn’t injure her, mistreat her, or abuse his power over her once he’d gained it.
And finally, she’d suspected after their kiss, and discussion of the matter, that they would do well together as regarded intimate affairs, and that in all likelihood, she might enjoy some sensual time, at some point in their marriage, with him, and that it would be very pleasant.
However, Hypatia had to admit two things to herself, as they, well, there wasn’t really any word for it butmauledeach other messily, making their way from the kitchen—where they’d left their baskets, devoid of anything but crumbs, blankets, andlinens—clutching at each other, at the bundles of clothes in their arms, at walls, door-frames, and eventually, banisters.
Firstly, she had to admit that she was very glad she’d married this man with a house devoid of furniture and baubles, for it made their progress much smoother than it might’ve been otherwise, and resulted in no damage but to their shins and shoulders as they bumped and rolled against uneven wooden surfaces when they got too carried away and lost their balance.
Secondly, she had to admit that she’d gotten far more than she’d bargained for with Thorn; in the very best ways. She’d found all she’d wagered she would—kindness, respect, good company—but also all she hadn’t truly dared hope for, such as profound care, understanding, and true partnership. She’d trusted him with her future, and her person, and also found someone she felt she could trust her whole self to, as she had, with every word, every question, every confession, such as those spoken tonight in the stream. She’d found someone who trusted her with parts of himself she was sure he hadn’t before, and that was something extraordinary, and potent, and vibrant.
And if she was honest, though she’d expected any intimate encounters with Thorn would be good, pleasant, and somewhat satisfactory, she’d not quite expected their compatibility to be quite so potent. She’d not expected to become quite so quickly addicted to his taste—to all of his tastes—to be set quite so afire by the look of him in full natural state, or when he lost all composure and control,because of her. She’d never been desired, felt wanted so insatiably, and desired so insatiably.
Perhaps most discombobulating of all, was that she’d not quite expected to need him so much—she’d expected to want him, not toneedto feel his hands on her, or to know what he felt like inside of her, or how his whole body might feel above, or below, or—
‘Why did you stop?’ she asked, somewhat petulant, likely glassy-eyed, and very out of breath when Thorn broke their kiss.
‘We have arrived at our rooms.’
Blinking, she turned to discover that they were in fact leaning against the wall between the doors of their rooms.
Looking back at him, she found him breathing exceptionally hard, dried strands of hair both falling dangerously over his forehead, and sticking up in the oddest manner, while sweat beaded at his temples, and his eyes glowed in the semi-darkness of the moonlit corridor.
‘Would you think me presumptuous if I invited you to my room, under no pretence but that we continue this, and with the reassurance I did happen to buy a preventive in Sandham?’ he asked, determination and desire laced with hesitancy.
‘I likely should,’ she grinned. ‘However, considering I too acquired such an item during our outing to Sandham, it would be most hypocritical.’
‘I am beginning to realise just how much I’ve underestimated my luck on finding you in the garden,’ Thorn sighed, shaking his head desperately, and claiming her mouth once again.
Hypatia lost herself in that fierce and deep discovery for a few moments, before initiating a half-roll, half slide towards Thorn’s door, fumbling around with her free hand for the latch, before finally finding it, and throwing open the door.
Making a sound that resembled both a growl and sigh of relief, Thorn followed her as they stumbled in, thankfully having the presence of mind to not fall in too far before closing the door, not that she thought anyone would come spying.
All bets were off then, as the bundles they’d somehow managed to keep hold of fell to the ground, and liberated of those burdens, they put their hands to better use, tearing at each other’s dressing gowns, shirts, trousers, and at their own boots—thankfully only slipped on—then skin, hair, fingers, hips, chests,breasts, anywhere really, they could reach, still refusing to end the kiss, tongues winding and darting in exploration in between every sharp inhale they could muster.
They left a trail to the bed they managed to find—Hypatia only realising they’d found it when the back of her knees hit the mattress, without enough warning to prevent a reflex from having her break away from Thorn, and sit upon on it. He remained somewhat frozen before her in mid-air, leaning but not looming, as surprised as she was, until his eyes refocused, glinting in the moonlight streaming in, and a slow grin divided his face. His chest heaving as much as hers, he slowly straightened, letting his eyes catalogue and drift over every inch of her much like they had at the stream, sure and sweet as a caress; and she did not resist the impulse either.
In fact, to better aid both of them, she slid back on the coverlet, leaning back on her forearms to better see, and be seen; and because she felt safe, and appreciated, and unjudged, she tantalisingly slid her legs slower and slower apart, so that he could see all of her. Thorn made a strangled sort of noise, focusing in, his own private self certainly appreciating the view.
And with every breath, every glance, every second, I find myself hungrier, and more in need of whatever this man can give.
What he gives me now.
